Date: 2000-01-01 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Scandalous; bandit; Fiction; Western; opposites attract; Western Romance; Romance; General; Entangled; Historical; Historical Romance; enemies to lovers; reluctant lovers; secret identity; bandit roma
Description: The Wild West just got a little wilder... In a time when justice is hard to come by, three unconventional sisters become one notorious bandit - The Blood Blade - robbing from the corrupt lawmen to give back to the innocent. A Bandit's Stolen Heart Under the persona of the bandit, Blood Blade, Cilla Richardson robs from the corrupt and gives to the poor. But an accidental kidnapping leaves her with a very handsome captive named Leo Forrester... and an idea to save her town. A Bandit's Broken Heart Determined to make a fresh start with her daughter, widow Brynne Richardson gives up her bandit ac
Publisher: Macmillan

Blood Blade Sisters Series

Michelle McLean

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2014 by Michelle McLean. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 109

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

Edited by Erin Molta

Cover design by Heidi Stryker

ISBN 978-1-62266-597-6

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition May 2014

Table of Contents
Blood-Blade-Sisters-Series
Blood-Blade-Sisters-Series-1
Blood-Blade-Sisters-Series-2
A-Bandit's-Stolen-Heart
A-Bandit's-Stolen-Heart-1
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A-Bandit's-Betrayed-Heart
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She took him captive, but he stole her heart.

Under the persona of the bandit, Blood Blade, Cilla Richardson robs from the corrupt and gives to the poor. But an accidental kidnapping leaves her with a very handsome captive named Leo Forrester...and an idea to save her town.

On the wrong side of the feisty redhead’s pistol, Leo reluctantly agrees to help Cilla’s cause. But the more time he spends with the sexy thief, the more determined he is to steal her stubborn bandit’s heart.

But to prove his love, he’ll have to save her neck from the hangman’s noose first.

A Bandit’s Stolen Heart
a Blood Blade Sisters Novel

Michelle McLean

For Tom, Connor, Ryanna, Kyelie, and Matt—my love always.

Chapter One

Cilla glared at her horse through the pouring rain, refusing to allow the old gelding the satisfaction of staring her down. He glared back with such a human expression of irritation that she nearly burst out laughing. She wasn’t happy with what they were about to do either, but then she had little choice in the matter. If she could risk life and limb for her family, then so could the annoying beast in front of her.

“Ah, come on, Maynard. We’re almost done for the night,” she murmured as she leaned against his side. The horse shifted away, denying her the brief respite from the rain his bulk provided.

“Spoilsport.” Cilla inhaled, sucking the damp rag tied around her face into her mouth. The stale sweat and horse odor of the cloth tasted as bad as it smelled. She plucked at it, longing to rip it off. But announcing her identity to the good citizens she was about to rob wouldn’t be wise.

The faint sound of horse hooves carried on the wind and she grabbed Maynard’s reins. The horse might be a stubborn old bag of bones when it suited him, but he also knew when it was time for business. He stood steady while she swung up into the saddle. Cilla turned as her sister, Lucy, rode into view.

Lucy was nearly invisible in the pouring rain. Like Cilla, her black duster covered dark brown pants and a brown homespun shirt left over from their father’s riding days. They both wore their long auburn hair plaited and shoved under floppy hats. Even in the daylight, Lucy and Cilla looked eerily alike, except for the scar that dissected Cilla’s left eyebrow, running from her forehead down to the corner of her eye. They could have been twins if they hadn’t been born four years apart.

Cilla tugged the brim of her hat lower over her eyes. In the dark of the night, the sisters were nothing more than shadows, nothing showing but the faint white gleam of their eyes.

Lucy pulled her horse alongside Maynard. “The carriage is coming.” Her muffled words sent Cilla’s stomach dropping into her well-worn boots. She couldn’t tell if Lucy’s voice was full of excitement or fear, though she suspected it was the former.

Lucy had only recently been allowed to join in Cilla’s nighttime runs.

Maynard pranced beneath Cilla, echoing her anxiety. Something was off. She glanced around. The silent trail showed no signs of life. Everything was hiding from the downpour that spilled onto the thirsty land. Maybe she was just worried about Lucy. It was all well and good to be enthusiastic about your work, but being overly excited could get you killed. Or worse, caught. The thought of Lucy in the hands of the sheriff, their despised half-brother Frank, was more than Cilla could stomach. He’d have to put a bullet in her brain before she let him get a hold of her sisters again.

“How many passengers?” Cilla asked, trying to rein in both her misgivings and Lucy’s excitement. This was business, and business was best conducted with cold calculation.

“Three, just like you said. Mr. Langley, his fat old wife, and their daughter.”

“Old Jesse driving?”

Lucy hesitated. “I’m not sure. The driver was hunched over like Jesse usually is, but…I don’t think it was him.”

Cilla didn’t say anything. An unexpected change in drivers wasn’t good. Damn! They needed what was in that coach. Or more specifically, the fee it would bring when they turned it in. To supplement the meager income they kept from their raids, the sisters had begun doing a few jobs for hire. Though they only took the jobs that fell under their definition of “justified.”

People who had something Frank wanted didn’t hold on to it for long. The brooch they were supposed to retrieve from the Langleys had been coerced from the rightful owners because Frank had locked up their only son until the couple had ponied up the brooch as payment for his release. Therefore, Cilla felt no guilt in getting it back. Especially when they were being paid in hard currency.

They didn’t have many clients who paid in cash. Most traded goods in return for the sisters’ retrieval services. Cilla appreciated the gifts of food, clothing, and other items or services that kept the sisters’ living conditions tolerable. But the promise of gold wasn’t worth Lucy’s life if something went wrong.

The rumble of the coach’s wheels echoed up the hill to where they waited. They were out of time. Cilla opened her mouth to tell Lucy it was off, to head for home, but before she could do so, Lucy wheeled her horse around and thundered down the hill toward the unsuspecting coach.

“Damn it all to hell and back again,” Cilla muttered, digging her heels into Maynard’s side.

The horse jumped forward and they flew after Lucy. Cilla reached the carriage just as Lucy darted her horse in front of the coach’s team, blocking their path. The driver shouted, grappling with the reins. The horses reared. Lucy and Cilla flanked either side and the driver yanked them to a halt.

Guns drawn, the girls got to work. Lucy forced a cursing driver down from his perch. Cilla trained her gun on the window of the coach, her other hand flinging the door open. She lost no time. She ignored decrepit old Mr. Langley, who was sputtering in useless outrage in the corner of the carriage. It was harder to ignore the high-pitched squealing coming from his highly coifed and beribboned daughter, but Cilla did her best.

She pointed the gun straight at Mrs. Langley’s head and cocked the pistol.

“Brooch,” she said, her voice as deep and guttural as she could make it. She still sounded like an underdeveloped boy who’d been kicked in the unmentionables, but it was the best she could do.

Thankfully, Mrs. Langley was more attached to her life than her jewelry. She began divesting her fingers of rings and yanked a strand of pearls from her throat, tossing them to the floor of the coach.

“No,” Cilla growled. She pointed the gun at the marble-sized ruby surrounded by diamonds at the woman’s throat. “Brooch,” she said again, as forcefully as her fake voice would allow.

Mrs. Langley fumbled with the brooch, finally ripping the fabric of her dress in her haste. She tossed it to Cilla, who caught it with her spare hand.

Cilla backed away, leaving the rest of the jewelry glittering weakly in the dim light of the carriage’s door lantern. Carefully releasing the hammer of the gun, she tipped her head to the carriage’s occupants.

The pop of a gunshot rang through the air.

Close.

Cilla gave the spooked carriage horses a smack on the rump and they lunged forward, pulling their screaming occupants along with them. A shout from her sister sent a jolt of fear racing through Cilla’s blood. She bit her lip to keep from yelling her sister’s name. As soon as the carriage was clear, Cilla sprinted forward.

The driver wrestled with Lucy, cussing worse than a farmer with crickets in his corn. Even on his knees with one arm limp at his side, he was doing a good job of knocking Lucy off her feet. He yanked off her bandana. Lucy stumbled backward, trying to push him away. Her hat went tumbling as she fell.

The driver froze. “A girl?”

Cilla aimed her gun and for a split second thought about shooting him. But burying a dead man wasn’t part of the plan. She strode forward, flipped her weapon around, and bashed the butt into the man’s head with as much force as she could muster. He crumpled to the ground.

Lucy let out a shaky sigh. Cilla bent down, feeling for the man’s pulse. He was still alive. But he was going to have one hell of a headache come morning.

“What happened?” Cilla asked, whistling for Maynard before Lucy answered. They needed to get out of there.

“I don’t know. He was shoutin’ at me, and I was tryin’ to get him to shut up without sayin’ much, and I gripped my gun too tight and it just went off.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be loaded. You know the rules.” Cilla felt horrible coming down on her sister when she was obviously still spooked, but they couldn’t afford such mistakes.

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” Lucy’s voice trembled and Cilla sighed.

“We’ll talk about it later. Help me,” she said, grasping one of the man’s arms.

Lucy grabbed the man’s other arm and they dragged him the few feet to where Maynard stood. The horse eyed them then looked away. “Maynard, kneel,” Cilla commanded.

The horse nickered, blowing a stream of hot air in Cilla’s face. She held her breath. They’d only done this twice before. If the horse refused now, they were done for.

Cilla sighed in relief as the horse slowly dropped his front legs into a semi-kneeling position.

“How’d you get him to do that?” Lucy exclaimed.

“I’ve been training him to help me out around the ranch. Come on,” Cilla grunted, looping the man’s arm over the saddle. “We’ll talk later.”

Lucy swung the man’s other arm over the saddle and pushed him from behind as Cilla pulled from the other side. A few tense and sweaty minutes later, they had the man draped across Maynard’s back. Cilla patted the old horse, reminding herself to give him a big bucket of oats when they got home, and mounted. Lucy grabbed her horse and had just come up alongside Cilla when another gunshot rang out.

“Ride!” Cilla shouted. She couldn’t see who was behind them, but she could guess.

Frank and his deputies had been roaming the borders of the ranch more and more frequently as of late. He said he was merely concerned for their well-being, with all the robberies that had been occurring over the past several months. But Cilla knew he suspected them. Not that he could prove anything.

Unless he caught them tonight—with an unconscious, battered man hanging over her saddle.

“Hell and damnation,” she said, thankful her words were drowned out by the pounding of their horses’ hooves. “We’re in for it now.”

Chapter Two

Cilla and Lucy rode right into the wide open doors of the barn and jumped off their horses.

“Oh, Dios mio, what have you done now?” Miguel, the only ranch hand who hadn’t deserted the sisters after their father’s death, hurried over to the girls.

“It’s not as bad as it looks,” Cilla insisted.

Miguel tilted the man’s face into the light of the lantern and peeled one of his eyes back before letting his head drop again. “Uh-huh. You better go get Carmen.”

Cilla cringed. Miguel’s wife was the housekeeper, nurse, cook, and overprotective mother hen of the ranch, and while she was dearly loved by all, she was a holy terror who even Frank tried not to cross.

“Frank’s on his way, we don’t have time for that right now. Just help me.”

Cilla and Miguel dragged the man’s body off her horse, doing their best to break his fall. He still hit the packed dirt of the barn with a thud. Cilla put her ear to his chest, thankful to hear his heart beating loud and strong. She stood and helped Miguel drag him into one of the stalls.

Miguel went to tend to the horses. Lucy stood beside Cilla with her hands on her hips, staring down at the stranger with a frown on her face.

“What do we do with him?”

Cilla shook her head. Damned if she knew. But they couldn’t let Frank find him, that was for sure. She bent over and Lucy helped her get the man’s coat off. His arm wasn’t bad, thank goodness. Just a scratch. Cilla tore a strip of cloth from her shirt and bound the wound. Then she covered him with his coat and threw several armfuls of straw over him, covering him as much as possible. It was all she could do with Frank hot on their heels. She turned her back and prayed the man didn’t snore…and that Frank would stay out of the barn.

Miguel tossed a rag at Cilla. “There is blood on your saddle, but not much. See if you can get it off.”

She grabbed a rag and wiped it as best she could. It would pass a quick inspection, she hoped.

“The horses are dripping wet and muddy,” Lucy said.

“So are you,” Miguel observed, taking the small leather pouch containing the night’s haul from Cilla. “You let me deal with this. And the horses. Go take care of yourselves.” He turned and ran down the length of the barn, gathering all the lanterns as he went.

Lucy laughed and grabbed the two that hung near the doors.

“Can’t suspect what they can’t see,” Cilla said, smiling as she took the lanterns from Lucy so her sister could shut the barn doors.

They had just made it to the porch when the faint whinny of a horse sounded from behind the hill leading to their property. The front door flew open and Carmen yanked them inside, grabbing the lanterns from Cilla’s grasp.

“Give me those! I’ll deal with them. Quick, get into the parlor and off with your clothes!” Carmen managed to juggle the lanterns and still get Lucy’s coat off. Cilla batted Carmen’s hands away when she moved to grab hers. She hurriedly peeled it off and ducked into the parlor with Lucy.

Carmen hustled toward the kitchen, calling to them over her shoulder. “Your nightshirts are by the fire. Move!”

Cilla heard the door to the cellar being thrown open as she and Lucy yanked and peeled sodden clothing off their chilled bodies. A sound of splashing water came from the kitchen. A moment later their older sister Brynne came in, her hair wrapped in a towel with several wet tendrils escaping down her back.

She tossed a towel to each sister and gathered their soaked clothing. She glanced around the room for a place to hide them, but the sound of several horses riding into the courtyard seemed to spur her on.

“Quick! By the fire!” Brynne motioned to the hairbrush lying on the hearth and Cilla smiled, amazed by her sister’s quick thinking.

With a look of triumph, Brynne lunged at the wood box and shoved the clothes inside. Cilla looked down to make sure she was decent and noticed a smear of blood on her hand. She scrubbed at it, removing some of it, but doing so left a red stain across the palm of her other hand.

There was a heavy-handed banging at the door. Cilla quickly ran her hand through her damp hair to remove the bit of blood left on her palm.

The fist hammered again. Lucy slid to the floor, making room for Brynne as she took her place at the hearth and started attacking Cilla’s damp hair with the brush.

When Frank burst into the room, he found his three half-sisters, drying and brushing their hair by the fire, looking for all the world as though they had spent the evening grooming each other. His two bottom-feeders marched in after him. Cilla’s squeal sounded almost as convincing as her sisters’ as they grabbed at quilts to cover their nightclothes.

Carmen immediately bustled into the room. She marched right up to Frank, wagging her finger in his face and cursing at him in Spanish. If the situation hadn’t been so dire, Cilla would have laughed as Frank stumbled back a few steps under the housekeeper’s fury.

“Calm yourself, woman!” he shouted, his hands raised as if to show her he came in peace.

“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, Frank Richardson. Your poor papa would turn over in his grave if he knew you were being so disrespectful to your sisters. Bursting into their house in the middle of the night with these…these matones,” she said, gesturing to the two goons who were wisely hovering near the door.

“Now, Carmen, I have every right to check on my sisters and make sure everyone is where they are supposed to be. These are dangerous times and—”

“They’re only dangerous because of you!”

Frank’s anger burned off whatever residual fear he had of Carmen. He glared at her. “Enough! You’ve said your peace. Now get out of my way.”

“It’s all right, Carmen. We’ll be fine,” Cilla assured her. “Why don’t you go find Miguel?”

Carmen pushed passed Frank, spewing Spanish profanities as she went.

“What is the meaning of this, Frank? Get these men out of here, this instant!” Brynne glared at him.

Frank took in the scene, a million different emotions flitting across his pasty face. He nodded at his men and they trudged back out the door, slamming it behind them.

Cilla focused on her half-brother, waiting to see if he suspected anything. He might have been handsome once, with his dull copper-colored hair and deep brown eyes. The dance hall girls certainly seemed to like him. But all Cilla saw were the years of drinking that had sucked the life from his features. The angles of his face were too sharp. His eyes held the remnants of a miserable life, full of bitterness and cruelty instead of warmth.

Cilla might have been tempted to feel sorry for him had he ever shown any sign of common human decency. But by the time their father had discovered his existence, the product of a drunken night with an opium-addicted prostitute, every ounce of compassion and morality had been beaten or starved out of him. Their father had believed there was still good in him. But no matter how much love and attention he had lavished on his only son, Cilla didn’t think there was anything redeemable left.

“Sorry to intrude.” Frank’s sneer conveyed just how unapologetic he was. His bottom lip bulged with tobacco and Cilla cringed, dreading the moment when he’d need to spit the disgusting juice from his mouth. “A carriage was robbed tonight and we have us a few witnesses that saw the good-for-nothing bandits comin’ this way.”

Cilla squared her shoulders. She’d gotten good at lying to Frank over the years, an unfortunate side effect of their father’s untimely death. “Ah, and you thought you’d come by to check on us? Why, how brotherly of you,” she purred, trying not to lay the sarcasm on too thick.

Frank glared at her. “The thieves made off with Mrs. Langley’s prized ruby brooch, and roughed her up some as well.”

“What?” Lucy straightened up, her face blazing with indignation.

Cilla patted her sister’s leg, giving it a warning squeeze beneath the soothing gesture. “We’re very sorry for any trouble that has befallen the Langleys, of course, Frank. But why are they traveling about in the dead of night? It’s not a surprise that they ran into mischief.”

“Is it not?” Frank said, his dark eyes wandering over the room. They focused for a moment on the wooden box and Cilla risked a quick glance. Her blood ran cold when she saw a small puddle forming near the edge. Frank took a step toward it. Cilla threw off the quilt she’d been holding to her chest, tossing it into a heap at the foot of the box. She moved to stand in front of him.

“While we appreciate your…visit, we really must insist you take your men and go. We are in no state to be entertaining company.”

With a glance at her, Frank started to step around when the front door crashed open again. Jed, one of Frank’s men, stumbled in, shaking his dripping hat all over the rugs and furniture. He held one hand tight against his chest.

“Did you search the grounds and the barn?” Frank asked. Cilla held her breath, hoping Frank didn’t hear her heart trying to pound its way out of her chest.

“Searched the grounds. Didn’t find nothin’. Can’t see any tracks with all this floodin’. And can’t see nothin’ in the barn. I can hear them horses all right, but couldn’t find a lantern nowhere. Lit a match and tried to take a look but one o’ them damned animals bit me!”

Cilla had to bite her cheek to keep from smiling. Good ol’ Maynard.

Frank sighed and dug into his lip, extracting a lump of tobacco that he flung to the corner. He spit a few times, emptying his mouth of tobacco juice all over their polished wood floor.

Jackson strolled in. He stopped next to Frank, his one good eye roving over Cilla. She looked down and stifled a gasp. In her haste to dress, she had forgotten to button her nightgown all the way and was showing a good bit of cleavage. She clutched her gown together, planting her feet to keep from taking a step backward.

Jackson had been ugly even before the knife fight that had disfigured his face, leaving a thick white scar running through one eye, across his nose, and down the other cheek. Cilla could handle ugly, but Jackson was also just plain mean. Torture-a-puppy-just-for-the-fun-of-it kind of mean. Cilla would geld a bull barehanded before she’d willingly be alone in a dark room with Jackson.

“What about you?” Frank asked him.

Jackson didn’t take his gaze from Cilla. “Didn’t find nothin’.” He licked his lip. “But maybe I can get some information for you anyway,” he said, reaching for Cilla, “if’n you leave me alone here with this lyin’ little bit—”

Frank’s fist smashed into Jackson’s mouth. Jackson dropped to the floor, shaking his head like the wet dog he was. Frank stood over him, his pistol in his hand.

“I’m more than capable of handling one weak little girl, understand?” Frank growled.

Cilla had no illusions that Frank actually cared what happened to her. But he had a mighty high opinion of himself and since she was blood and all…well, if Richardson blood was going to be spilt, Frank would be the one to do it. Not that Cilla would bet on that always being the case.

“Besides,” Frank continued, shooting a nasty look at Cilla before turning back to Jackson, “there ain’t no need for any of that…yet. Got it?”

Jackson dragged his hand across his bleeding lip, his eyes blazing fury. But he wouldn’t stand up to Frank. “Whatever you say…Boss.”

Frank nodded at the door. “Git outside.”

Jackson dragged his sorry carcass out. Cilla didn’t relax her stance.

Frank spun around, the back of his hand slamming into her cheek. She dropped to one knee, the room spiraling so much she nearly crumpled to the ground. Brynne cried out. Lucy jumped up to come to her, but Cilla shook her head. No way would she let Frank see her weak. She took a deep breath and fumbled for the cold metal at her ankle. She came back up with a tiny pistol in her hand.

Frank looked at the gun and laughed. “And just what are you gonna do with that?”

Cilla tensed her arm to keep it from shaking. Her face throbbed, radiating heat from her cheek up into her eye and temple. Her vision blurred but she refused to let him see her flinch. She felt Lucy and Brynne at her back. Brynne’s hand gripped her shoulder and Cilla stood straighter, drawing strength from her sisters.

“Why don’t you just tell us why you’re here, before things get uglier.”

Frank tilted his head in a mocking bow and stuck his hand inside his coat.

“Stop!” Cilla cocked the gun.

“Relax. Just gonna pull out a paper that you’ll want to see.”

Cilla nodded for him to continue, but kept her gun trained on him.

Frank revealed a thin folded paper with a flourish.

“And just what is that supposed to be?” Brynne asked.

“Why don’t we all get a little more comfortable,” Frank suggested. “You’ll want to be sitting down for this.” He grinned at each of the girls, apparently relishing whatever surprise he was about to spring.

Brynne stomped to the chaise by the fire and plopped down with a huff, though she was careful to keep her thick quilt pulled tightly across her, hiding the small mound of her belly that was becoming more and more noticeable. They wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer. Cilla pulled her gaze from her sister, forcing the thought from her mind. They had other things to worry about just then. Lucy followed Brynne to the chaise, sitting on the floor by her feet. Frank looked at Cilla, his eyebrow raised.

“I prefer to stand,” she said, though she did lower the gun. She was almost surprised at her gumption, but the last few years had worn her patience to the breaking point. Eking out a living from the failing ranch by day, raiding coaches by night, watching her sisters toil and struggle—it was enough to turn the sweet nature of any girl…and her nature hadn’t been all that sweet to begin with. Or so she’d been told. And Frank was going to be the tick that sucked her dry. It wasn’t wise to cross him. But Cilla just couldn’t seem to help herself.

Frank grabbed her shoulders and shoved her into a chair. “I said, sit.”

Cilla glared at him, every fiber of her being aching to thrash him within an inch of his life. Lucy’s whimper stopped her from jumping back to her feet. “Spill it, Frank. We haven’t got all night.”

He sat in their father’s favorite armchair. “I think you can make time for this.” He slowly unfolded the paper, clearly enjoying dragging out the suspense. Cilla’s finger itched to pull the trigger, but it would have been a shame to get blood all over their mama’s Persian rug.

“What is it, Frank?”

“Well, see, it seems you all have been squatting on my property. The ranch, the house, and everything in it rightfully belong to me. As sheriff, I’ve come to enforce my rights and tell you you’ve got three weeks to clear out.”

Brynne, Lucy, and Cilla shouted and sputtered.

“What?”

“I don’t believe it!”

“You no-good, lyin’ son of a—‘”

“Don’t you three go airin’ your lungs out at me! Cussin’ like liquored-up sailors at your betters.” He shook his head. “Now I know y’all was raised up better than that.”

Cilla ached to wipe the smug smile from the bastard’s face. Instead, she concentrated on breathing.

One heartbeat.

Two.

When she felt like she could speak without shrieking like an old biddy, she said, “This property was our mother’s, Frank. She left it to us when she died. So you can take your lies and just get the hell out.”

“Wrong.”

Cilla stood but Brynne grabbed her arm and hauled her onto the chaise. She carefully took the pistol out of Cilla’s hand. Cilla didn’t want to let it go, but vaguely recognized the wisdom in Brynne’s actions. If Frank didn’t shut his lying, yapping mouth, there was a very real possibility that Cilla would put a bullet through it.

Brynne sighed and turned to Frank. “Look, Frank. We all saw Mama’s will after she died. She left the ranch, the house, and everything on the property to us.”

Frank smiled. “Right. But there’s one unfortunate little detail that everyone’s forgotten up ‘til now.”

Cilla started counting again. She couldn’t take much more of this. “And what exactly would that be?”

“Y’all are underage. Brynne’s not twenty-one yet, and she’s a year older than you, sweet little Priscilla. And Lucy there is only fifteen.”

The girls sat in stunned silence. Cilla stopped breathing altogether as Frank’s words sunk in.

“Which means, my dear sisters, without a husband to claim your property for you, everything you own falls to the jurisdiction of your nearest male relative.” He paused, pinning each one with his greedy gaze. “Which would be me.”

He grinned and leaned forward. “It’s too bad that bastard you were pantin’ after didn’t stick around long enough to marry you,” he said to Brynne.

Brynne sucked in an outraged breath. “He did marry me, Frank, and you damn well know it!”

If their lives weren’t crumbling around their feet, Cilla might have taken the time to be shocked at Brynne’s unaccustomed swearing.

Frank’s thin lips stretched over his tobacco-stained teeth in a grimace that made Cilla’s blood run like shards of ice through honey.

“He ain’t here. And there ain’t no record of no marriage. Your shackin’ up with him ain’t no proof of nothin’ except what a whore you are.”

Brynne gasped, her hand straying to her belly. Cilla lurched to her feet. Her fist shot out, connecting with Frank’s chin. His head snapped back and Cilla nearly grinned at his shocked expression. It felt so good to wipe the smirk from his face. She pulled her hand back for another blow, but this time he caught her fist in his.

He hauled her against his chest, pinning her arm behind her back.

He brought his face so close to hers it blurred in her vision. “Girl, you’re even dumber than you look, and that’s sayin’ somethin’.”

He trailed his finger down the scar near her eye. “Unless you want another one o’these, you better keep your little hands to yourself.”

He flung her away. Lucy was there to steady Cilla before she fell, and kept her arms around Cilla’s shaking frame as Frank stalked to the door.

“Air out Pa’s room for me. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

The door shut, leaving pure, stunned silence in its wake.

“What are we gonna do?” Lucy asked.

Cilla angrily wiped at her nose, grimacing at the metallic smell of her skin. She looked at the blood that stained her hand and sucked in her breath. Maybe…no, it was crazy.

But it was the only thing she could think of. “I may have an idea.”

Chapter Three

Leo thrashed his head, rubbing it against the ground, but the blindfold had been tied too tightly across his eyes. He had no idea where he was, though by the smell of it, he’d guess he had been deposited in a stall of some sort.

His head throbbed where that bastard had hit him. Blood Blade! Well, he’d wanted to find him. Guess he should have been more careful about what he wished for. But what on earth was a bandit doing riding with a woman? Woman…hell, she looked like she was barely more than a baby. Leo had no idea how his plans had gone so horribly wrong. All he had wanted to do was find his brother. He hadn’t heard from Jake in months. The last letter he’d received hadn’t given him much information to go on, either. Jake had heard about Blood Blade and the bounty on his head. And he’d been determined to be the one to bring him in. He’d apprehended other criminals. In fact, Jake had been on his way to being one of the best bounty hunters on the western coast. But something must have gone wrong.

The last Leo had heard, Jake had given up hunting Blood Blade and taken a job working as a ranch hand for three sisters near some dried-up gold mining town called Bethany Ridge, some thirty miles northeast of Sacramento. It hadn’t made any sense to Leo until Jake had mentioned that he’d fallen in love with one of the sisters: Brynne Richardson.

Precious little information to go on, but it was all Leo had. The Richardson sisters must have been the last to see Jake alive, though Leo refused to believe his brother was dead. Perhaps he’d just married the Richardson girl and was living in such a state of marital bliss that he’d forgotten to let his family know that he was alive and well. Anything was possible. Unlikely, but possible.

What was more likely was that Jake had had a run-in with Blood Blade and lost. Though that didn’t fit with what Leo had heard about the notorious bandit. Stories of Blood Blade had filtered down to Sacramento, and from what Leo had heard, the bandit was the one to talk to if you wanted something found.

He seemed like an interesting fellow. Leo hadn’t heard of many bandits who took cases for hire, but then you didn’t often hear of bandits who gave away most of their ill-gotten gains, either. But apparently Blood Blade was something of a Robin Hood. Leo didn’t know if he worked missing person’s cases, but he figured it didn’t hurt to ask. If Blood Blade hadn’t been the one to cause Jake’s disappearance, maybe he’d be amenable to finding him. And if he had had something to do with it…well, Leo would cross that bridge when he got to it.

The problem was contacting him. Bandits weren’t known for being easy to find. But the Richardson sisters supposedly served as a sort of go-between for the bandit and his would-be clients.

Of course, this was all conjecture. The clerk at the general store Leo had passed a few towns back had heard it from his cousin who was a clerk in the general store in Bethany Ridge. Again, thin information to go on, but at this point, Leo was willing to try anything. And he needed to talk to the sisters anyways. Leo always was one for efficiency.

Though it seemed as though he wouldn’t need their help to contact the bandit since the bastard had decided to rob the coach he’d been driving. Oh yeah, and clock him over the head after his female companion had taken a shot at him. So much for the stories about Blood Blade never harming his victims.

Leo had taken the job as a means to get him to Bethany Ridge. All he had needed was a ride and had considered it a stroke of good luck when the rotund couple and their obnoxious daughter had shown up asking around for a driver. The job provided him with the ride he needed and he would make money for the journey instead of having to pay it out. Win/win, he’d thought. He’d had a good feeling about the trip…right until Blood Blade’s gun had smashed into his skull. Now he wasn’t sure what to think.

Leo froze at the sound of doors creaking open. Boots clomped across the hard-packed dirt floor toward him. Murmuring voices filtered in. He sat up. Looked like he was about to meet his captor.

…

Cilla reached down and gave the rope around the driver’s hands one more firm tug before she stood up and dusted the straw from her knees. She hadn’t tried to wrestle his arms behind him, settling for tying his hands together in front of him, and she’d left his feet untied. He wouldn’t be going anywhere with her gun trained on him. But she made a mental note to keep her distance, just in case. His garbled curses through the bandana in his mouth made her sorry for what she was about to do.

A mud-covered Lucy had finally returned from town, her triumphant grin letting Cilla know she’d accomplished her task. Brynne left her post at the barn doors as Lucy shut them behind her. She took up Brynne’s position, keeping a lookout through a crack in the doors. The rain had stopped, allowing the moon to peek out from behind the clouds. Frank wasn’t known for keeping his word, and Cilla wasn’t taking any chances that he’d stay away until morning.

The horses and saddles had been brushed and cleaned, their sodden clothes properly hidden in the laundry pile. The only loose end knelt at her feet, his chest heaving with understandable fury.

Cilla held out her hand to Brynne, who hesitated only a second before giving her the loaded pistol. Leveling the gun at their prisoner, Cilla took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.

“I’m gonna remove your blindfold and gag now. We need to have a little talk. I’m armed and I’ll shoot if you try anything stupid. All I ask is that you hear me out.”

A rush of muffled words and angry hand gestures followed. Cilla sighed and stepped forward. She placed the pistol against his head and cocked the hammer. The man froze.

“I really don’t have time to repeat myself, mister. If you will please cooperate, this nasty little affair could be over and done with. Will you hear me out?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the man nodded once. Cilla stepped back and uncocked the pistol. Brynne removed his blindfold. He blinked, turning his head away from the lantern light spilling onto his face.

Cilla studied their captive. When his eyes had adjusted, he turned to face her. Even from his bound position on the barn floor, the fury in his face had her planting her feet to keep from running and hiding. She raised the pistol, refusing to follow the impulse to step back when he worked his way to his feet. Using his shoulder, he jerked the gag from his mouth and glared at her. His bound hands pressed against the side of his head for a moment, coming away smeared with blood. Angry brown eyes burned into hers from beneath a mop of slightly curly black hair. He looked a little familiar, but Cilla dismissed it. All men looked alike to her.

“Sorry if I got a little too rough with you there,” Cilla said.

His rage turned to confusion as he looked around. He took in Cilla with her gun, Brynne, standing warily to the side, and Lucy, who sat on a bale of hay near the door, holding a rifle on her lap. He turned back to Cilla.

“You did this? Three women?” His words were gravelly, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Where are your men? Why was I brought here? Wait—are you…are you the Richardson sisters?”

Cilla hid her surprise that he knew who they were. Though they were fairly well known around these parts—three sisters living on their own and running a ranch was not something you stumbled across every day—but a stranger? She didn’t answer him. She was the one asking the questions.

She brushed her free hand against her thighs and rolled her eyes as the man took in her clothing. Her father’s remade breeches were snug and left little to the imagination, but she’d figured out long ago that skirts and petticoats were unfit for ranch work. Breeches were more efficient.

Cilla cleared her throat to bring the man’s attention back to her. He drew himself up to his full and considerable height and Cilla had to look up to keep her eyes locked on his. But she wanted his full attention. There could be no mistaking what she was about to ask him.

His eyes narrowed and she licked her suddenly dry lips before she continued. “We had to bring you here, but I never meant you any harm.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You meant me no harm?” His gravelly voice coated every word with anger. Recognition finally sunk in as he stared at Cilla and Lucy. “You,” he said. “You and her over there. You robbed the coach. You’re not…you can’t be Blood Blade!”

The incredulous amusement in his voice did not endear him to Cilla. “We’ll ask the questions,” she said. “You’re new in these parts. What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t know it was a crime to be new. Surely you get lots of new faces coming in and out of here.”

“Not since the gold dried up. Prospectors generally head north of here. There’s nothing left for newcomers in this town, which brings me back to my original question. Why are you here?”

He shook his head with a disbelieving laugh. “I came looking for Blood Blade.”

“Why?”

“Why does anyone want him? I want to hire him to find something for me. I can pay. I was told the Richardson sisters could contact him for me. Never dreamed I’d find a bunch of women dressed up like bandits and robbing coaches.”

“Yes, and that presents a problem for us.”

“I won’t spill your secret. I told you, I need your help. Female or not, your reputation proves you can get the job done.”

“That’s very un-male of you.”

“No point in arguing otherwise. I call it as I see it. Always have.”

Cilla glanced at her sisters. “What do you want us to retrieve?”

“I’m looking for my brother. He sent a letter from this town three months ago and no one has heard from or seen him since.”

Brynne gasped and Cilla knew the realization of who this man was must have hit her at the same moment it had occurred to Cilla. Cilla flicked her sister a warning glance and turned her attention back to the man.

“Sorry. We don’t do missing persons.”

The man clenched his jaw. Asking for help was clearly not something he was used to doing.

“You are the Richardson sisters, aren’t you? Which one is Brynne?” he looked between Brynne and Cilla, having obviously dismissed Lucy as being too young.

“Look, mister, we don’t know anything about you. And we don’t know what happened to your brother, either.”

“Then let me go and I’ll be on my way.”

“Well,” Cilla said, training her gun at him once again, “here’s where we run into that little problem I mentioned.”

His eyes narrowed as he glared at her, but Cilla held her position. “See, you know who we are now. We can’t have you out there telling the world.”

The man stared at her, the silence between them hanging so heavily Cilla could almost taste it.

“I guess you won’t take my word for it that I wouldn’t tell anyone.”

“No,” Cilla said with a slight smile.

“Well, then. What’s it to be? Gunshot to the head?”

“Effective, but messy, I’d think,” Cilla answered.

“Are one of you pretty ladies going to try and strangle me into silence?”

Cilla smiled again. “It’s getting late, Mister…?”

“You know my name.”

Cilla continued to stare at him, waiting for an answer. She wasn’t going to confirm anything just yet.

Finally he answered, biting each syllable out. “Forrester. Leo Forrester.”

Well, that removed any lingering doubt. Cilla fought to keep from glancing over at Brynne.

“Mr. Forrester, I might have a proposition for you that could help us both out.”

He glared at her and waited.

Cilla swallowed. “We won’t kill you. We’ll even help you find your brother.”

“And in return?”

“You marry my sister.” She nodded at Brynne.

Leo stood in silence for half a heartbeat, then took a breath as though he was going to speak. Instead, his laughter rang out, a deep, gut-wrenching laugh that would have been hard to resist had she not been so deadly serious. He sat down on the stool that was in the stall and put his head on his bound hands. Rubbing his face, he took a deep breath and looked back at Cilla.

She hadn’t expected a good reaction—well, she hadn’t been sure what to expect. But his laughter had taken her by surprise.

“I’m glad I can amuse you.” Her hand twitched on the gun. She’d like nothing more than to clock him over the head with it again.

He raised his hands a little, glancing down at the rope. “You have a funny way of expressing affection,” he said, looking around at each of them, coming to rest once again on Cilla.

“None of this appeals much to us either. But since we’re in sort of a rough situation, you are going to have to do.”

“Your tenderness astounds me.” He looked at her again, appreciation for what he saw flickering across his face. “Why your sister? Why not you?” he asked, his eyes burning into hers.

Cilla sucked in a breath, momentarily struck speechless. His lips twitched and Cilla glared. “Because she is the eldest and because she needs…” Her words trailed off as she glanced at her sister.

Leo followed her gaze, his eyes lingering on Brynne’s hands, which were resting on her slightly rounded belly. “She needs a name for her child.”

If there had been one ounce of derision in his voice, Cilla would have reintroduced him to the butt of her gun. But it was said matter of factly, even sympathetically.

“My child has a name,” Brynne snapped. “My hus—”

“Brynne!” Cilla glared at her sister. She understood how hard this was for her, but Brynne had agreed and there was no time to argue through it again.

Brynne folded her arms across her belly, her lips pinched tight.

“Wait! She’s Brynne? She’s the one my brother loved?” He took a step toward Cilla, his face darkening. “Does that mean my brother is dead? What happened to him?”

Cilla looked toward the barn doors. “Lucy?” Her sister glanced over and shook her head before turning her gaze back out the doors. Coast was still clear.

Sighing, Cilla tucked the gun into the waistband of her pants. “Look. We have no idea what happened to your brother. If he were here, we wouldn’t be in the mess we are in now, so believe me, no one wants to find him more than we do. But since he isn’t here, we don’t have a whole lot of options. So this is real simple. You marry my sister, parade around as her husband for a couple weeks until a few…annoyances of ours go away. Then the marriage is annulled and you can go on your way.”

Well, they wouldn’t be able to annul the marriage for a while, but Cilla didn’t see the need to point out specifics. Brynne wouldn’t be twenty-one for another six months. So unless Jake reappeared, which after four months seemed less and less likely, they were going to need Leo to remain Brynne’s husband until then. But that didn’t necessarily mean Leo needed to stick around. They needed his signature on the register and his ring on Brynne’s finger, not his presence on their ranch. Not for too long anyway, Cilla hoped.

“And my brother?”

“We’ll do our best to help you find him. Like I said, we want him more than you do.”

“And what if I am already married?”

“You aren’t.”

They’d checked through his belongings. No ring, no letters from a loving wife, nothing to indicate he was anything other than a lone man. Traveling with an obscene amount of money.

Cilla tilted her head. “On your way back from the mines, are you? Or just back from exchanging some gold for cash? Rob someone? You were carrying an awful lot of money for a simple carriage driver.”

All amusement drained from his face and his eyes bored into hers. “You took my money?”

“I thought you were offering it up as payment.”

“Not all of it.”

The quiet statement sent shivers up her spine and almost made her regret goading him. She gripped the handle of the gun. “You’ll get it back, just as soon as our arrangement is concluded.”

His lips tightened into a nearly invisible line. She tried not to let him intimidate her as he took a step closer. Yet a streak of fear flooded through her anyway. She swallowed, forcing her breathing to remain slow and steady. She figured he would be angry, but being faced with the towering hulk of a man was much worse than she had imagined.

“Your money is safe. It will be returned to you, all of it. Like I said, we don’t want your money.”

“No. Just my hand in marriage.” He snorted. “And if I refuse?”

Cilla raised her weapon again. “We can’t have you running around knowing our secret, Mr. Forrester. Your choices are simple. A brief, sham marriage, and help in finding your brother. Or a cold, lonely grave in the middle of nowhere. Unfortunately, we really don’t have the time to wait for you to think about it. We need an answer.” She cocked the gun. “Now.”

Leo said nothing for a moment. “Why don’t you marry someone in town? I’m sure women are in as short of supply here as everywhere else in California. Surely there is someone who would be willing.”

Cilla nodded. “Yes, there are men in town who would be willing, but—”

“I have a husband,” Brynne interrupted. “I don’t need another one.”

“You married Jake?” Leo asked, his gaze softening as he looked at Brynne.

Brynne answered “Yes,” just as Cilla said, “In a manner of speaking.”

Leo looked back and forth between them. “I’m confused. Are you my brother’s wife or not?”

Cilla sighed but Brynne ignored her. “Jake asked me to marry him, but the town’s parson was on an extended trip. We didn’t want to wait, so we were married by a friend of Jake’s.”

Leo’s gaze flicked to Cilla. “Then I don’t understand the problem.”

“They were married by a friend of Jake’s from the Mojave tribe,” Cilla answered.

Leo’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “I thought the Mojave tribe was further south.”

Cilla shot him an impatient look. “It is. This friend is…complicated.”

Leo waited for an explanation and Cilla decided to get it all out quickly so they could move on. They were wasting time. “He’s actually an Irishman who lived with the tribe long enough to become one of their leaders. But he had to leave. The ceremony he performed for Brynne and Jake was a handfasting ceremony mixed with the Mojave ceremony. They consider it binding,” she said, nodding at Brynne, “but…”

“But it’s not technically legal,” Leo finished for her.

Brynne squared her shoulders. “Jake is my husband. I won’t marry some other man who will expect a true wife. And we won’t give our inheritance away just to keep Frank from it. We’ve worked too hard to keep this land, to keep this ranch running. It’s ours, no matter what the stupid law says about our being under age. Besides, any man who would be kind and treat me fairly deserves more than I can give him. When my husband comes home, we’ll have all the manpower we need around here. We don’t need or want anyone else.”

Cilla sighed again. “If you are who you say you are, you’re family. That child my sister is carrying is your niece or nephew. And the situation we are in at the moment is in large part due to your brother up and disappearing. We aren’t asking for much. A few extra days to help us out of this mess, and then you can be on your way and leave us in peace.”

“Priscilla!” Lucy was running toward them as the sound of hoofbeats filled the yard outside the barn. Brynne grabbed the rifle from Lucy and shoved her into the stall behind them.

“Damn,” Cilla muttered as she yanked a knife from its sheath at her waist. “Why’s he back here so soon?” She went to Leo, flicking the knife through the ropes at his wrists as quickly as she could. “You’re about to see why we need you, Mr. Forrester.” She spun back to the doors just as they crashed open.

Leo had made no movement. Cilla prayed that he would go along with their plan.

If he didn’t…

“Well, what have we here?” Frank strolled through the barn toward them, Jed and Jackson flanking his sides as usual. “My sweet little sisters, alone at night in the barn with a strange man. Tsk tsk. Now that just won’t do. Good thing I returned.”

Cilla tried to calm the pounding of her heart. “You get outta here, Frank. You’re not welcome.”

Frank looked at his friends in exaggerated surprise before turning back to her. “Not welcome in my own home? Now that just ain’t right.” He stepped closer to her, his badge gleaming in the lamplight. She wanted to turn and run, but Lucy’s wide, frightened eyes stiffened her resolve.

“I said leave, now.”

“You need to learn some respect, you good-for-nothin’ bitch.” Frank raised his hand and Cilla tensed, waiting for the right moment to drive her blade into his arm. Instead, she found herself thrust behind Leo, who was holding the sheriff’s arm in a grip so tight, Frank cried out.

“I think you’d better mind your manners before someone gets hurt,” Leo said. Frank pulled at his arm and Leo released him.

Frank backed up, cradling his arm. “Who the hell are you?”

Leo pulled Brynne to his side. Cilla looked up at him in surprise. He wrapped his arm around Brynne’s waist and smiled at Frank.

“The name’s Leo Forrester.”

“You’d best be taking your hands off my sister, Forrester. I’m the sheriff around these parts and you’re on my property—”

“I’m afraid you are mistaken on that count. And I believe my sister-in-law told you to get out. I suggest you abide by her wishes. I can’t have you upsetting my wife.”

Cilla bit her lip to keep her jaw from dropping open in surprise. Brynne looked tense and uncomfortable by Leo’s side, but she didn’t say anything to refute Leo’s claim.

Frank sputtered in outrage. “Wife? She’s not your wife! That’s impossible!”

“Oh, but it is possible. And I don’t appreciate you barging in here and threatening my wife and her sisters. Sheriff or no, you don’t have any right to be harassing these women.”

“Harassing them? They are my sisters. I have every right to be here, on my family land. Every single one of them is underage, and as their closest male relative that makes it my responsibility—”

“Wrong.” Leo released Brynne and drew closer to Frank with every word. “We’re married. That means this woman, this land, and this house are mine. And I protect what is mine.”

Frank looked at his friends for support, but they were already backing away.

Frank turned back to Cilla, his expression making her blood run cold. “I’ll leave,” he snarled, “for now. But I’ll be back tomorrow. There weren’t no wedding. You ain’t got no proof. And when I show you for a fraud,” he said, turning to jab his finger at Leo, “I’ll toss you in jail for trespassing faster than you can spit.”

Leo waited while Frank and his cohorts mounted their horses and rode off. When they were out of sight, he turned back to Cilla, who stood staring at him in disbelief.

“What is your name? No more games.”

“Priscilla Richardson. Call me Cilla.” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper.

“We have a deal.” He nodded and turned, taking Brynne’s hand in his. “Now, I suggest we find a preacher.”

Chapter Four

“Right this way, Mr. Forrester.” Lucy hopped off her hay bale, slung her shotgun over her shoulder, and gestured grandly toward the house. “I picked up the reverend before you all had your little talk,” she said, nodding toward her sisters. “We thought it would save time if you decided to be agreeable.”

“You hauled a preacher out in the middle of the night for an emergency wedding? And he came?”

Lucy shrugged. “He owes us a favor.”

Leo’s eyes narrowed, and he hesitated. But then he shrugged and turned to Brynne and Cilla.

“Are you coming?” he asked. He didn’t wait for their answer, instead following Lucy.

Cilla held back, knowing Brynne was about to give her an earful. She was already cringing before Brynne rounded on her.

“He’s Leo FORRESTER?” Brynne nearly shouted and Cilla tried to shush her.

“I had no idea. How could I?”

“He is my husband’s brother, for crying out loud! Here to ask for our help to find him and you want me to marry him? Are you insane?”

“Look, I know in your heart you consider yourself married, but legally you aren’t, and it’s the legal bit that’s got us in a bind right now.”

Brynne crossed her arms, clearly fuming, but Cilla could tell she was close to tears.

“Brynne, I know this isn’t the way things were supposed to turn out. I’ll admit it’s crazy. But if you think about it, it’s actually kind of perfect.”

Brynne tried to interrupt, but Cilla cut her off. “Just listen! We need his help. He’s all we’ve got. And instead of it costing us a small fortune, all we have to do is promise to do something we were doing anyway. Plus, he’s got added incentive to stick around until we do. We will find Jake, Brynne. I promise. And when we do, we’ll pay off our debt to Leo. And in the meantime, we get rid of Frank. All you have to do is say two little words, words you know mean nothing, and our lives get a lot better.”

Brynne still didn’t look convinced. But she was wavering.

“If you’ve got a better idea, I’m all ears.” Cilla tried not to snap at her sister, but her patience was wearing thin. They didn’t have time for this. “But Frank is going to be here first thing in the morning, if not sooner, and we’ll all be out on our rears. So you better decide fast. Go through with it and buy us some time. Or don’t, and start packing your gear. Because we don’t have any other choices that I can see.”

Brynne’s face fell. “I know. But Cilla…”

Cilla squeezed her sister’s hand. “I know. But it won’t be that bad. How can it? He’s Jake’s brother, after all. If he’s anything like Jake, we should be thanking our lucky stars he fell into our laps.”

Brynne sighed. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Good. Let’s go get you dressed.”

Brynne rounded on her sister, hands on her hips. “I agreed to go through with it, but I am not going to get all fancy about it. This isn’t a real wedding, Priscilla Richardson. It’s a charade, a ridiculous plan to get Frank out of our lives. Why should we go through more trouble than this already is?” She glanced in the direction of her new fiancé, who was waiting across the yard on the porch and looking more and more amused.

“Because the reverend doesn’t know this is a sham and he might find it odd if you show up to your wedding in a dirty, wet bathrobe. He’s suspicious enough with us dragging him out here in the dead of night. If he didn’t owe us a favor, he wouldn’t have come at all. Don’t give him any more reason to question things.”

Brynne couldn’t argue against that logic, though Cilla could tell she dearly wanted to. “Fine. Do whatever you want to me. Just don’t expect me to like it.”

Cilla hugged her. “It’ll be okay, Brynne. I promise.”

They marched to the house, their mud-covered boots taking their frustration out on the saturated ground. When they passed the parlor, Cilla called, “We’ll be just a minute!” to Leo, Lucy, and Reverend Mitchum, before hurrying up the stairs after Brynne. Cilla wasn’t sure what Lucy had told the town preacher about the circumstances. He sat in the parlor, looking supremely uncomfortable, so she guessed it wasn’t much.

A tense quarter of an hour later, Cilla stood looking at her sister. Brynne’s best dress strained at the seams around her waist, the full blue and white checkered muslin falling to the floor in gathered folds.

Carmen was happily keeping up a steady stream of rapid Spanish under her breath while she twisted Brynne’s hair into a becoming bun. This marriage was the answer to a thousand prayers for Carmen, who hadn’t stopped praying for the immortal souls of Brynne, Jake, and now their unborn child since they had, in Carmen’s mind, taken part in a damning pagan ceremony and started living in sin. Carmen wouldn’t have cared who Brynne married so long as it was religiously and legally binding. Before the baby came. Of course, Carmen would have preferred a Catholic groom and a proper church wedding, but at this point, she wasn’t going to split hairs.

Brynne scowled at them both and then at her reflection in the mirror.

“You can look nice, Brynne. It won’t kill you,” Cilla said. She slapped Brynne’s hands away as she plucked at her bodice.

“It might,” Brynne mumbled.

Cilla bit her tongue. If Brynne and Jake had just seen fit to marry in the town’s small chapel, with a few more witnesses, they’d have all the proof they needed. Instead, they’d been impatient, had their strange, nonlegal ceremony, and now look where they were.

Of course, if Jake hadn’t upped and disappeared, they wouldn’t be in this position at all, secret marriage or no. But Cilla couldn’t say that to her already distraught sister. She sighed and grabbed Brynne’s hand.

“Come on, you look beautiful. And we better get downstairs before the groom bolts.”

Brynne glared. Cilla gave her what she hoped was a sympathetic smile and pulled her out of the room.

Leo was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. Brynne nodded to him and went to stand with the others in the parlor. Cilla confronted her soon-to-be brother-in-law. She leaned toward him so only he could hear her whisper.

“I know you are being forced into this, but I would be obliged if you’d remember that Brynne is as well. With any luck, you’ll be quit of each other as soon as possible. Until then…” Cilla drew a breath, hating to ask anything of him, of anyone. But for her sister she’d do it. “Until then, I’d ask that you be kind to her. She’s been through enough.”

Leo stared at her, his jaw clenched tight.

“Please,” Cilla added, the word rusty on her lips.

Leo’s eyes searched hers, burning with their intensity. Finally, he nodded. But he didn’t look away. Her cheeks grew warm under his scrutiny. She had put a little effort into her appearance as well and from the way his eyes widened slightly as he looked her over, he’d noticed. His eyes traveled from her plaited auburn hair, lingered on the buttons that strained to pop under the rather snug bodice, to her trim waist and back up again.

“You look…different,” he said.

Cilla cocked an eyebrow. “Thanks. I think.”

He certainly cleaned up nice. It looked like he had washed the blood from his head and the dust from his face and hands. And he had even run a comb through his thick, wavy hair. The stubble on his chin gave him an air of rugged handsomeness that was only accentuated by the sheer size of him. In the light of the parlor, without the dirt and grime coating his face, his resemblance to Jake was unmistakable.

What an indescribable mess.

Brynne came to join them and Cilla took her hand, giving it a supporting squeeze.

“Everyone’s ready, Mr. Forrester.”

“Leo. If we are going to be man and wife, you should probably call me Leo.”

Cilla tightened her grip on Brynne’s hand as it started to tremble.

Her sister nodded. “Leo, then.”

Leo held out his hand and Brynne stared at it as if it might up and bite her.

His lips twitched. “Well, do you need to get married or not?”

“I do.” Brynne’s cheeks flamed at her unconscious choice of words.

Leo snorted. “Well, at least you’ll know what to say.” He moved toward the door. “Let’s get this over with.”

Cilla wrapped her arm around Brynne’s waist and walked with her into the parlor. She stood by her side, trying to lend whatever strength and support she could. Watching her sister’s determination as she played her part in their charade, Cilla vowed she’d never marry, ever.

She’d held her sister as she had wept endless tears for her lost husband, had heard her hushed sobs in the dead of night, seen her happy, bright-smiling beauty fade with every day that passed without word from Jake. Cilla would never give a man power over her like that. Never.

Rev. Mitchum declared Brynne and Leo man and wife. Leo leaned forward and placed a quick kiss on Brynne’s cheek.

The grandfather clock in the hall chimed one. The reverend, trying to stifle his yawns, quickly excused himself after making sure the wedding certificate and register had been filled out properly. With all the paperwork in order, he vanished upstairs to the room they had offered him for the night. Carmen and Miguel gave Brynne a quick hug and excused themselves as well.

Everyone else stood silently, the only sound coming from the faint ticks of the old clock. Cilla nearly jumped when Leo cleared his throat.

“I don’t know about everyone else, but I’m about to fall asleep where I stand. Perhaps we could call it a night and hash out the details of our little…arrangement in the morning.”

Brynne nodded. “That sounds like a good idea, Mr…Leo. Follow me. Lucy, will you lock up?”

“Already on it,” Lucy said with a smile as she blew out the lamp on the table. Cilla grabbed a candelabrum and led the way up the stairs.

“Allow me,” Leo said, taking the heavy branched candlestick from her. Cilla nodded her thanks but avoided looking at him, instead turning to take Brynne’s hand. They led him to the door at the end of the hall on the left. Lucy came bounding up the stairs just as they reached the end of the hallway.

“This was my parents’ room,” Cilla said, opening the door. “You will stay here while you are our guest.”

Leo walked into the room and turned to Brynne. “And where will you sleep?”

Brynne looked at him, surprised. “My room is just across the hall from yours.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed dangerously. Cilla wasn’t sure she wanted to hear Leo’s answer.

“You are my wife. You should be where I am.”

Brynne’s face turned scarlet. Lucy slapped a hand over her mouth, barely containing an inappropriate laugh. Cilla gave her a scathing look. She turned her attention back to Brynne, who was now breathing like she was the barnyard cat trying to escape the sheep dogs. Cilla jumped in, hoping to avoid an explosion.

“Mr. Forrester, in case I didn’t explain the finer points of this arrangement clearly enough, let me refresh your memory. This marriage is for appearances’ sake only. Brynne certainly doesn’t need to share your room or your bed or…any other part of you,” she said, inwardly cursing the slow blush she felt creeping over her face.

Leo put the candelabrum down on the dresser with an irritated huff, marched to the door, and shut it in Cilla’s face.

“What do you think you are doing?” Brynne’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

Cilla’s face burned and she fumbled at her waist for her gun, only to remember she was wearing a damn fool dress and had left her gun in her room. No matter. She had another one strapped to her ankle.

“Slam the door in my face, will you?” she muttered. She was going to kill him. Cilla started hiking up her skirts, but Lucy grabbed her arm.

“Let them alone, Cilla.”

“I will not,” she ground out. “We can’t leave him alone in there with Brynne! What if he—”

“I don’t think he’s going to hurt her, Cilla.” Lucy pressed her ear to the door and waved Cilla over. “Come on,” she whispered. “If it sounds like she’s in trouble, we can bust in there. Just remember, pregnant or not, Brynne is one of us. No one forces her to do anything.”

Cilla sighed. Her younger sister was right. Their older sister was more than capable of defending herself should the need arise.

Reluctantly, Cilla leaned over and pressed her ear to the door. The voices were muted, but Cilla could just make out what Leo and Brynne were saying.

“I understand the more intimate details of our deal perfectly,” Leo said. “But I don’t think you have thought it all the way through.”

Brynne sputtered. “I have so thought this through!”

“Don’t you think it will look a little odd to the good Reverend Mitchum if he wakes in the morning to find that the happy couple he just wed is sleeping in separate bedrooms?”

There was silence. Lucy leaned closer to Cilla and whispered, “He’s got a point there.”

“Shh,” Cilla said, waving her off. She went back to listening, her ears straining as she heard the sound of bedsprings.

Leo’s voice came from farther away. “Like it or not, if this marriage is to be for appearances only, we have to make it appear that we are well and truly married.”

Cilla’s hand trailed to where her gun should be hanging and Lucy slapped at her.

“Stop it,” she hissed, rolling her eyes. Cilla glared at her.

Brynne’s voice filtered through the door, close. She must have still been standing right by the door. “I guess you have a point,” she conceded. There was a pause. “Well, you have to sleep on the rug by the fire for tonight. We will make more comfortable arrangements for you tomorrow.”

Satisfied, Cilla nodded and started to move away from the door.

Leo’s retort of “No” caught her off-guard.

She pressed her ear against the door again, knocking against it in her haste. Lucy slammed her finger to her lips, glaring at Cilla.

Sorry, Cilla mouthed. They listened again.

“I am sorry to disrupt your plans, Mrs. Forrester. But I am dead tired. I have been beaten, tied in a barn, threatened, and forced into marriage. I refuse to…” his voice was too muffled to understand for a second, “…a sleepless night on a hard floor. You wanted to marry me. Well, we’re married. There is nothing wrong with sharing a bed. I promise I will not lay a finger on you. Just come to bed. It is large enough for the two of us.”

There was silence. Cilla waited. She held her breath, straining to hear.

“Besides,” Leo continued, “this way we can say honestly, if asked, that we spent our honeymoon night in bed together.”

A soft sigh from Brynne. Footsteps. Bedsprings creaking. Silence.

Lucy looked at Cilla, shrugged, and stood. She motioned for Cilla to move away from the door, but Cilla only pressed closer. What was going on in there?

The door opened and Cilla fell forward with a yelp, right into the arms of a half-dressed Leo. Cilla jerked away from him as if his skin were on fire and fell backward onto the floor. Laughing, Lucy helped her up. Cilla got to her feet, her face burning so hotly she could barely see.

She looked into the room. Brynne sat on the bed against the headboard, looking drained but in no distress.

“I’m fine, Cilla,” she said, her voice sounding as tired as Cilla suddenly felt. Brynne’s hand reached under her pillow and she pulled a small revolver out of its hiding place for a moment before stashing it again. Cilla looked down as her lips twitched. Brynne could handle herself.

“Good night, ladies,” Leo said.

Cilla’s eyes traveled from the line of his pants at his waist, up the smooth, hard expanse of his bare chest. She swallowed and backed out the door.

“Good night,” she muttered. The door closed and she fled down the hall.

Chapter Five

Cilla’s door crashed open and she screamed, jumping from the bed, her gun in her hand before she could even see who to aim it at.

“Where are they?” Frank yelled.

Adrenaline pumped through her body. Frank fumed, his nostrils flaring with each gust of his breath. Lucy appeared in the doorway behind him.

“Cilla?” she asked, her bloodshot eyes wide.

Frank turned and shoved her out of the way, heading for Brynne and Leo’s room.

“Not good, not good,” Cilla mumbled, running past Lucy.

The door across the hall slammed against the wall as Frank kicked it open. Cilla skidded to a halt beside Frank, her mouth gaping open. For the first time in her life, she was utterly, totally speechless.

Leo, his body bare to the world, leaned against the pillows. Brynne lay casually against his side. The ribboned neck of her chemise was undone, revealing a shocking abundance of cleavage, and her arm rested on his naked thigh. If it weren’t for the taut tension in all of Leo’s very visible muscles and the fact that Brynne’s lips were stretched so thin they were almost nonexistent, Cilla would have sworn they had just interrupted something of a very personal nature.

Leo kept his gaze glued to Frank as he brought his other arm behind his head in a casual stretch. Cilla’s eyes darted back to her furious brother, doubting the dunce saw the strap of Leo’s gun holster hanging from the headboard, half-hidden from view by the bedding.

“Frank.” Leo nodded once in his direction, but Frank was looking straight at Brynne.

“You dirty whore! You outta be ashamed. Get out of that bed!” Frank made a move to grab her but froze as Leo’s gun appeared, aimed right at Frank’s head.

“I told you last night, Frank. I don’t take kindly to threats or insults against my wife. Now get the hell out.” Leo’s voice was ice cold.

Cilla bit back her satisfied grin at the scared look on her brother’s face.

Frank tried to hold his bravado together.

“There ain’t no way you two is married. I checked the preacher’s house this morning. He’s gone. And I know she weren’t married yesterday.” Frank gave them a smug smile.

That smile faded as a rumpled and half-asleep Reverend Mitchum wandered into the bedroom, scratching his head and yawning.

“What’s all this racket? It’s an ungodly hour to be awakened, I must say. Oh! Oh my,” the reverend stuttered as he took in the scene: Brynne in her thin, undone chemise, curled against a magnificently naked Leo, who still held a gun on a now-fuming Frank.

“There now, Frank, you see? The good reverend was kind enough to come out last night and officiate at our little ceremony. And as you can plainly see, my wife and I spent the night together. Like it or not, Frank, we are well and truly married in the eyes of the law. Now,” and at that point Leo stood, giving Cilla an unobstructed view of his long, lean body. “I’ll give you a choice. Walk out of here on your own, or be carried out with a bullet in your heart.”

Frank’s chest heaved and he clenched his fists at his side.

“Uh-uh, Frank,” Leo said, cocking his gun. “Your finger even twitches toward that gun and the good reverend here will have to stay for a burying.”

“This ain’t over, Forrester!” Frank wheeled on his heels and stomped out the door. “This ain’t over!”

Leo lowered the gun and looked at the reverend, who couldn’t seem to find a safe place to look. His eyes kept darting from the half-clad Brynne on the bed to the fully naked Leo in front of him. A muffled giggle from the door drew Cilla’s attention and she frowned as she saw Lucy in the doorway.

Lucy blushed and turned her eyes from Leo.

“Oh, for hell’s sake.” Cilla grabbed Leo’s pants. “Here,” she said, tossing them to him. “I think you’ve made your point.”

It was only then that Reverend Mitchum finally noticed Lucy and Cilla and tried to usher them from the room. Cilla dodged him but he managed to grab hold of Lucy and pull her away from the view.

Leo tugged his pants on. He came around the bed and sat beside Brynne.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.” Brynne’s voice was quiet but steady.

“Well, the reverend certainly has enough gossip to keep the town going for a while,” Leo said, going to the chair to retrieve his shirt.

Cilla snorted. “More than enough, I’d say. But he will be able to vouch for your…married state. Frank will have a hard time making his case now.” Cilla looked down at the floor for a moment. “Thank you.”

Leo nodded. “I’d say my part of the bargain is fulfilled.”

“More than fulfilled,” Brynne said as she climbed off the bed and gathered her clothing. Leo obligingly turned his back, turning his attention to Cilla.

He stared at her, his eyes raking over every inch of her. “What are you wearing, woman?”

Cilla put her hands on her hips. “What does it look like I’m wearing?” She always slept in the long johns she wore beneath her clothes. The material hugged every line of her body, but she felt more covered than she did in a loose, flowing chemise. And she was definitely not in the mood for some lecture on how sinful it was for women to wear men’s clothing. Though by the way Leo was staring at her, perhaps she should borrow a nice, loose flannel nightgown from Brynne. Leo shook his head. “As you said, I’ve kept up my end. Now, what are you going to do about holding up yours?”

Cilla stared at him for a moment. She glanced at Brynne, who just shrugged. Big help.

“I’m going to get breakfast going,” Brynne said. “We can talk about it over food.” She looked at Cilla’s attire as she walked out and smiled. “Maybe you should get dressed first.”

Cilla rolled her eyes and went back across the hall to her room. She knew that Leo’s gaze was following her, but Cilla didn’t pay attention until she was over her room’s threshold. Then, she turned, tilted her head, and gave him her sweetest smile. And then closed the door right in his face.

…

Brynne placed another full plate of eggs, ham, and biscuits in front of Leo. He thanked her, waited for her to sit down, and then inhaled the food. When he was finished, he sat back with a satisfied smile. Now he wanted answers.

“Why does Frank want this place so badly?”

Cilla kept her gaze on her plate. Leo caught Lucy glancing back and forth between Cilla and Brynne, before she finally got up and left the room. He raised an eyebrow.

Still not saying anything, Cilla wrapped her hands around her coffee cup. Then she spoke.

“His place borders ours. The combined land would be worth a great deal. Besides, the creek runs through our property.”

Leo just waited. He’d often found silence to be a compelling way of getting people to spill their secrets.

“Without water, Frank has to herd his cattle to the upper fields,” Cilla continued, abandoning her coffee to push her eggs around her plate.

“Good reasons, I suppose,” Leo agreed, “but there are easier ways for Frank to get what he wants. And I don’t think water rights and a bigger ranch are what Frank is after.”

Cilla pushed her chair back from the table and stood. “Frank doesn’t exactly share his reasons with me.” She strode to the door. “I’m going to help Lucy with the horses.”

Leo watched her leave. “Prickly, isn’t she?”

“She’s just not used to having to explain herself,” Brynne said, gathering the dishes. “And she doesn’t trust you yet.”

Leo helped her clean up the meal. “Do you?”

“You’re Jake’s brother,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“And you were Jake’s intended wife.”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed. “I am his wife.”

It was strange to be sitting in front of the woman his brother had loved enough to wed, no matter how strange the ceremony. Who now carried his brother’s child.

An overwhelming sense of duty filled Leo. He couldn’t just walk away and leave them unprotected.

“So the fact that I’m Jake’s brother is enough for you to trust me, even though you’ve just met me?”

Brynne scraped the uneaten food into a bucket. “Jake loved you. And he wasn’t one to suffer fools. Besides, you jumped to our defense when Frank came barging in. It’s more than most folks would do. I guess that buys you a little leeway. From me, at least.”

Leo smiled. “I take it your sister might be harder to win over.”

“I guess you won’t know ‘til you try.”

He grabbed his hat, ducking his head while he tugged it on to hide his smile. He was beginning to see why his brother had fallen so hard for one of the Richardson sisters. “Well, if I’m going to be staying a while, I might as well make myself useful.” He pushed in his chair and headed for the door.

“Leo.”

He looked back at Brynne, who gave him a sad smile, her hand lingering on her slightly burgeoning belly. “Thank you for staying.”

His heart twisted at the sadness in her eyes. He didn’t know what had happened to his brother, but he knew from the bottom of his gut that Brynne, at least, hadn’t had anything to do with it.

He tipped his hat to her. “My pleasure.”

“Be careful out there,” she said, amusement dancing in her eyes.

Leo snorted. “Thanks.”

When he got to the barn, the girls were nowhere to be found. But two horses were gone. Leo started at the sound of Miguel’s voice coming from a stall. “Can I help you, señor?”

“I was just looking for Priscilla and Lucy.”

“So, you are married to Miss Brynne now. You’ll be good to her, sí?”

“Yes, of course,” Leo answered, though the thought of having a wife was still so foreign to him he had a hard time comprehending it. Especially since the girl in question was sort of his brother’s wife. Surely that was all kinds of sinful wrong, but damned if he knew a better way to keep her and his unborn niece or nephew safe. Or to get closer to her feisty, beautiful, and possibly murderous sister.

He held out his hand. “I’m Leo Forrester.”

“Miguel Sanchez.”

Miguel sized him up for a moment. “This ranch, it’s good land. Rich pastures, good for stock. A lot of men might find it hard to give up.”

Leo nodded. “A lot of men might.”

“And you?”

Leo smiled. He appreciated the whole father-figure warning behind the man’s questioning eyes. “I’m just here to find my brother. If I can help my brother’s wife and child along the way, I’m happy to do so.”

“And if your brother is dead?”

Leo’s jaw tensed. The possibility of Jake being dead was getting more and more likely, but until that moment, no one had bluntly said it. And to be honest, Leo had no response.

“We’ll deal with that when we need to.”

Miguel stuck a piece of straw in his mouth and chewed on it for a moment.

“My wife, she’s just relieved that Miss Brynne is married. She wants her to be happy, of course, but the weight of Miss Brynne’s living in sin and bringing a fatherless baby into the world has weighed heavily on her. My Carmen…she is a bit…religious.”

Leo echoed Miguel’s faint smile.

“And you?”

Miguel fixed Leo with a piercing gaze. “I just want Miss Brynne to be happy. Married or no.”

Leo nodded. “That’s all I want as well. I will keep her and the child safe until my brother returns. And if he doesn’t…well, I will do as Brynne wishes.”

The older man regarded him for a moment and finally nodded his head. “The girls are repairing a fence in the northern pasture. I’m sure they’ll be glad for the help. You can use Luna there,” he said, gesturing to an old black horse in the last stall.

“Gracias,” Leo said.

Miguel nodded and went back to mucking out the stall. Leo saddled up the mare and was after Cilla before his breakfast had settled in his belly.

Just as he’d suspected, Cilla was less than happy to see him, though Lucy greeted him with a warm smile and kept up enough friendly banter that Cilla’s awkward silence wasn’t too much of a distraction. He caught Cilla’s gaze on him a few times and suspected her attitude toward him had more to do with the ample view of him she’d gotten that morning than anything else. Judging by the blush that stained her cheeks when he caught her watching him, she must have appreciated what she’d seen. He found he enjoyed getting a reaction out of her and went out of his way to be in her line of sight. It probably wasn’t the most gentlemanly way to behave, but it was amusing, to say the least. After everything she’d put him through, he didn’t feel guilty at her discomfort. His head still hurt where she’d hit him.

They worked on the fence until nightfall, only stopping once for a short lunch break. The girls shared their meals with Leo. Since Carmen always packed them enough to feed an army, there was plenty to go around. By the end of the day, Leo was drenched in sweat and aching from head to toe. The girls kept up a pace that put him to shame, but he didn’t hear a word of complaint from either of them. Watching them inspired admiration for their strength and sorrow at the hardships they were obviously used to. They should be working on their needlework and daydreaming about beaus, not breaking their backs in the field doing the work of ten men.

Even when they came in from fixing the fences, there was no pause for rest. Lucy went to help Miguel with the animals while Cilla tried to make a dent in the woodpile. Leo grabbed an axe to help. After twenty minutes or so of companionable chopping, Cilla stopped to wipe her brow. Her eyes roamed over the ranch house, the stables, and the pastures dotted with livestock that wandered among the grasses and trees.

“You love your home.” It was obvious, but for some reason he felt the need to voice the observation.

Cilla turned to him. “Yes.” It was a simple answer. But the weight of her heart was carried in that one syllable.

Leo noticed they all had a deep love for their home. But Cilla seemed especially attached, working with a near-fanatic diligence. Leo couldn’t help the thoughts that flooded his mind. Brynne had obviously loved his brother, and Lucy didn’t look like she could hurt a fly. But Cilla…she was another story. He watched her swing an axe, bringing it down on a log with a ferocious grunt. Her fierce protectiveness of her sisters and property were apparent.

Had she considered Jake a threat? Jake had initially gone after Blood Blade in order to capture him. He must have found out Blood Blade’s real identity. Even if he hadn’t, his marrying her eldest sister would have placed the ranch firmly in Jake’s hands. Had Cilla resented that? Enough to get rid of him?

So many questions. Leo just hoped he’d like the answers when he found them. The thought of the intriguing woman in front of him having anything to do with his brother’s disappearance made his heart twist for reasons he really didn’t want to explore.

They spent a quiet evening exchanging distrustful glances before Brynne finally had enough and told them to knock it off. Leo, his eyes so heavy he could barely keep them open, excused himself to go to bed. Cilla followed him to the foot of the staircase.

Leo stopped. “You know, if you didn’t want me here, you shouldn’t have tried so hard to convince me to stay.”

Cilla’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t want you here, I need you here. There is a very big difference.”

“So what’s your issue with me?” Leo stepped off the stairs, moving closer to Cilla who, predictably, refused to back up. “I stayed. I’m helping you with Frank. I’m even pitching in with chores. I’m doing everything you want, excuse me, need me to do. So what’s the problem?”

Cilla fumed. “I don’t know you, Mr. Forrester. I don’t know anything about you except what your brother told us, and that was precious little. My sisters love you because they think you are just like Jake. Well, to me, that’s just one huge mark against you.”

Leo moved even closer, anger burning a hole in his gut. He had no doubt Cilla was very capable of getting rid of anything or anyone she considered a problem. Is that what she’d done with Jake? “And what exactly do you have against my brother?”

Cilla craned her neck to look up at him, refusing to back down an inch. “He’s gone. He disappeared. Maybe that was his fault, maybe not. Doesn’t really matter to me. Point is, he isn’t here.”

Leo frowned, surprised once again. And confused. Cilla didn’t sound like she was a fan of Jake, but she also didn’t sound like someone who had something to do with his disappearance.

“So you hate him because he’s gone?”

“All I care about is this ranch and my sisters. And both are in trouble now because he upped and vanished. He better be dead, because that’s the only excuse I’ll take from him.”

Leo’s heart lurched and Cilla must have seen something dangerous in his face because for the first time she took a step back and showed a twinge of remorse.

“Don’t get me wrong, Mr. Forrester. I want to find Jake more than almost anything else in the world. Brynne loves him, and her baby needs its daddy. For that reason alone I’ll do whatever I can to find him and bring him back. But I promise you, if he purposely ran off…”

“He didn’t.”

Cilla nodded. “Then I guess he won’t have anything to worry about, will he, Mr. Forrester?”

“Leo.”

Cilla stared at him, the intensity of her gaze worming its way into his soul. He’d never met anyone so passionate, so alive. He was starting to truly hope she hadn’t killed his brother, and not just because he’d rather not have his brother be dead. Jake’s blood on her hands would make getting closer to her a bit of an issue. And for some reason Leo couldn’t fathom, he wanted to get much, much closer to the feisty little woman before him.

He opened his mouth to speak but Cilla beat him to it. “Goodnight, Mr. Forrester.”

Leo wasn’t sure what he would have said had she not spoken first. But he was glad he wasn’t going to find out. He needed to learn more about the enigmatic Priscilla Richardson. There was definitely more to her than she let on.

“Goodnight, Priscilla.”

He felt her eyes on him the whole way up the stairs.

Chapter Six

Cilla watched anxiously as Brynne read the letter that had just come in the post. The hopefulness with which Brynne had opened the letter faded to despair within seconds.

“They haven’t seen him or heard from him,” Brynne said, crumpling the letter.

Cilla hugged her. “We’ll find him, Brynne. I promise.”

Brynne shook her head. “Not here, we won’t. He’s not here. He didn’t go back to San Francisco, and no one they’ve contacted has seen him.” She threw the letter to the floor. “No one in or near town has seen or heard from him. And you’ve gone to every town within a couple of days’ rides. We need to go farther. With Leo’s daguerreotype, we actually have something to show people. Even if they didn’t speak to him, someone might have seen him.”

Cilla doubted it. It just didn’t make sense. If Jake had abandoned his new family, there would have been no reason to stay in the area and every reason to get as far away as possible. They hadn’t heard back from Jake’s family in Boston, but Leo’s appearance on their doorstep answered the question of whether Jake had gone home. Their next best bet had been Jake’s contacts in San Francisco. If they didn’t know where he was, as it appeared they didn’t, then Cilla was very much afraid something horrible had happened to him. And she thought that Brynne felt that too, deep down.

But if Brynne wasn’t willing to admit it, Cilla certainly didn’t have the heart to say it. Yet she didn’t want to go riding off on a senseless search and leave the ranch and her sisters unprotected either.

“Brynne, I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave you alone here.”

“I’m having a baby, Cilla, I’m not dying. I will be perfectly fine here without you for a few weeks. I am the eldest, remember? I’m the one who is supposed to take care of you, not the other way around.”

Cilla looked away, not wanting to meet her sister’s eyes. Yes, that was the way it should have been. And the way it had been for much of their lives, in some ways. Brynne was the mother figure, the one who had cuddled and nurtured and chased the monsters away in the dark of night. But Cilla had always been braver; the one who’d chased the spiders and snakes from the house, who’d fight kids in town who’d taunted them as children. Who’d put a bandana over her face and taken to the darkened forest trails to take back some of what had been stolen from them and others. Brynne was strong, but she might hesitate at the wrong moment.

Cilla wouldn’t.

“Frank has gone to Sacramento for several weeks. Everything here is running smoothly for the moment. There won’t be a better time to go. Besides,” Brynne continued, “I won’t be alone. It’s really insulting that you think we’ll all fall apart without you here to run things.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“That’s what it sounds like.” Brynne rubbed her hands over her ever-expanding belly in what had become a soothing gesture.

Leo took off his hat as he entered the room, looking from one sister to the other. His gaze locked with Cilla’s for a moment before he turned to Brynne.

“Lucy said a letter had come from San Francisco?”

His face lost its hopeful expression the moment the words left his mouth. The sadness on Brynne’s face seemed to answer his question. “They know nothing,” he guessed.

Brynne shook her head. “He’s not there. They haven’t seen him.” Her face hardened into determined lines and Cilla’s stomach sank. She knew that look. Her sister could be just as stubborn as Cilla when the mood took her. She wasn’t going to back down.

“We’ve done everything we can from here, Cilla. If we are ever going to find Jake, we need to go farther afield. Take the portrait Leo has, show it to people. Someone, somewhere must know something.”

Cilla sighed, her desire to find Jake buried in the fear she had for her sisters. What if something happened to them when she wasn’t here to help? But Brynne wasn’t going to let this go. And Cilla wouldn’t have either if the tables were turned, if someone she loved had been missing.

Her gaze strayed to Leo again. He was staring back at her, the intensity in his eyes piercing Cilla straight through the heart.

“All right, Brynne,” Cilla said, tearing her gaze away. “I’ll leave in the morning.”

“We’ll leave in the morning,” Leo said.

Cilla turned on him. “Excuse me?”

“There is no way you are going off to search for my brother without me. I’m going with you.”

“I don’t need you coming along to babysit me.”

Leo’s brow knit together and Cilla had the distinct impression he was trying not to shout at her. She folded her arms and glared at him. He could get as riled up as he wanted. He wasn’t coming.

“I have no intention of babysitting you, Priscilla. But you are going out to look for my brother and, no offense, but there is no way on God’s green earth that I am letting you do that without me.”

“Offense taken!”

“Take it however you’d like, but you still aren’t going without me!”

Brynne tried to step in between them, but neither paid her any attention. Leo simply stepped around her and continued.

“The reason I’m here is to find my brother and if there is going to be a search for him, I’m going to be part of it.”

“I need you here to protect my sisters! I am perfectly capable of looking for him without you dogging my steps!”

“Your capability isn’t the issue.”

“Then what is? You don’t trust me?”

Leo pinched his lips together but then stepped closer to Cilla, seemingly unable to keep his mouth shut. “Why in the world should I trust you? The only thing I know about you is that you ride around at night robbing people, you kidnap and force people to do what you want, and you were one of the last people to see my brother alive. So you’ll have to excuse me if I don’t want to leave a search for him up to you. He is my brother and if anyone is going to search for him, it’s damn well going to be me!”

Cilla’s mouth dropped open. Rage and shock jostled around with each other, leaving her completely speechless. Temporarily.

“How dare you? You gutless son of a—”

“That’s enough!” Brynne pushed her way between them. “You,” she said, pointing at Leo, “none of us had anything to do with Jake’s disappearance and if I ever hear anything of the like from you again he won’t be the only one people are searching for. Understood?”

Leo took several deep breaths, his hands on his hips as he glared at Cilla. But finally he looked back at Brynne and nodded. “My apologies,” he mumbled.

Cilla’s burst of satisfaction at his upbraiding was short-lived as her sister turned on her.

“And you.”

Cilla cringed when Brynne’s gaze fixed on her.

“Leo will go with you. You can’t do everything on your own and he has every right to go.”

Cilla opened her mouth to argue, but Brynne didn’t let her get a word in.

“Lucy and I are perfectly safe here. Frank is out of town and Carmen and Miguel are here if we need help. Even if they weren’t, we are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves. And like it or not, searching will go easier for you with Leo by your side. A lone woman riding about, dressed as you insist on dressing, is going to raise eyebrows. You’ll draw less attention and hopefully get more answers if you are traveling with a man.”

Cilla crossed her arms and fumed. But she couldn’t argue. Brynne was right. Damn it all.

The room fell silent. Leo and Brynne looked at Cilla and waited. Finally, she threw up her arms. “Fine,” she said, pinning Leo with one last glare. “He can go.”

Brynne grabbed Cilla and crushed her in a smothering bear-hug. “Thank you, Cilla.”

She pulled away. “But if anything happens to any of you while I’m gone, I swear I’ll kill you both!”

Brynne laughed. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

The next morning, Cilla rose early and gathered her things. She peeked in at each of her sisters, watching them for a moment as they slept. She grabbed the cross around her neck and offered up a quick prayer to keep them safe. When she looked up, she found Carmen watching her, a faint smile on her lips.

Cilla felt the heat rush to her cheeks. She’d never been one to pray, even with Carmen hounding her every day to give thanks to her Maker. She shrugged. “Not sure He’ll listen to someone like me, but I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

Carmen softly laughed. “He knows your heart, mija. You’re a better person than you think.”

“I’ll just have to take your word for that.” Cilla gave the older woman a hug, grabbed her satchel and bedroll, and headed out to the stable.

Maynard knickered a soft greeting and Cilla went to her horse, rubbing the white patch between his eyes. He nuzzled her and Cilla laughed and pulled a small apple from her pocket.

“Here you are, you greedy thing.” She stroked the horse’s neck as he gobbled up his treat.

Leo hadn’t yet come out and Cilla was grateful for a few moments alone. She took a deep breath, trying to ease her anxiety. Maynard swung his huge head, gently bumping her. She smiled and leaned her forehead against him.

“I don’t think we are going to find him, Maynard,” she said quietly. She’d never speak those words in front of anyone else. But with Maynard she didn’t have to hold anything back. He knew all her secrets.

The horse blew a burst of air through his nostrils and Cilla patted his neck. “I think if he were still alive, we’d have found him by now. But no one knows anything. None of his friends or associates have seen or heard from him. No one in the surrounding towns has seen him.”

A crushing sadness filled her, sorrow for the brother-in-law she’d grown to love, despair for her sister and the baby she carried. “I’m not giving up,” she assured Maynard, who knickered in seeming encouragement. “But I don’t have a good feeling about this.”

The horse bumped his head against her again, nuzzling at her hand. Cilla laughed and pulled another apple out. “Here you go, my love.” She fed the apple to him and then wrapped her arms about his great neck, breathing in deeply, drawing strength from the animal that she sometimes felt was the only one on her side.

She heard a rustling near the barn doors and Cilla looked up to find Leo watching her. She froze, guilt flowing through her. She hoped he hadn’t heard anything she’d said. He wouldn’t be any happier than Brynne to hear her true thoughts on the matter of his missing brother.

But he simply stared at her, no condemnation or anger in his eyes.

Maynard pawed the ground nervously, picking up on Cilla’s unease. She tore her gaze from Leo’s and patted Maynard’s neck before getting him saddled and ready to ride.

Leo did the same and within minutes they were on their way to find Jake. If he was anywhere to be found.

Two weeks later, Cilla was more certain than ever that Jake would never be found alive. Leo had grown more and more sullen with each day, seeming to come to the same conclusion, though Cilla never asked him. They’d stopped in every town they’d come across, showed Jake’s portrait to anyone they could make stand still. People had been willing enough to look at the daguerreotype, as most had never seen one before. But no one had recognized Jake.

Cilla’s last hope had been a small settlement in the mountains north of the ranch they had been referred to, one made up of a ragtag group of people who had been shunned from other communities and had found safety with each other. The group consisted of a few natives from various tribes, a family of runaway slaves who had made it all the way to California, and a trapper who spent most of his time in the mountains but occasionally came down to visit one of the Indian women. Cilla had hoped if Jake had somehow wandered off or been traveling some of the lesser-known paths, one of these people might have seen him.

But when they got to the settlement, they found it abandoned, the few shelters falling into disrepair. The last shred of hope in Cilla’s heart evaporated as she gazed around the lonely encampment. A shiver ran through her. She wasn’t one to be superstitious, but the abandoned settlement felt blanketed with an ominous atmosphere. Cilla wasn’t sure if something horrible had happened or if the inhabitants had just packed up and moved, but she couldn’t shake the negative energy of the place.

Maynard shifted uneasily beneath her and she patted his neck and turned to Leo. “It’ll be dark soon. We should make camp, but…”

Leo nodded and looked around the settlement again. “I don’t want to stay here either. Come on, we can find another spot before it gets too dark.”

Cilla gave him a grateful smile, though she knew the expression didn’t quite make it to her eyes. She was worried about her sisters back home, worried about what Frank might be up to, and despairing over their lack of progress in the search for Jake.

They found a small clearing near a creek that was sheltered by a thick copse of trees and stopped to make camp for the night. As they went about setting up their bedrolls and building a fire, Cilla found her gaze returning again and again to Leo.

The last couple weeks had been difficult in more ways than one. Whenever possible, they’d stayed in the towns they’d visited overnight and had always gotten separate rooms. But there had been nights when they’d slept on the trail, and the hours of traveling had created an uneasy intimacy between them. Cilla felt both more comfortable around Leo and more uncomfortable at the same time.

It didn’t help that she’d begun to dream of him at night. The often sensual dreams were disconcerting enough, but waking from one of them to find him watching her, the firelight dancing between them, was almost more than she could take. Her response to him irritated her to no end. She’d been around handsome men before, but she’d never been one to moon over them. The fact that she couldn’t get Leo out of her head, even when she slept, gnawed at her like a dog going after a bone. But nothing she did could dislodge him from her mind.

Cilla watched Leo move around the campsite, trying to ignore the warm rush of butterflies that fluttered through her belly at the way his muscles bunched and strained against his shirt as he broke small branches to feed into the fire. The way the firelight danced across the strong line of his jaw, added red streaks to his dark, wavy hair, illuminated the dark eyes that stared into hers.

It took a second for Cilla to realize that Leo had stopped what he was doing and was standing frozen, just watching her watch him. She jumped up and grabbed the bow and quiver of arrows that she’d brought with her to hunt small game.

“I’ll, um…I’ll go see if I can find us some dinner.”

A small smile touched Leo’s lips. “Don’t wander off too far.”

Cilla didn’t say anything in return, just turned and hurried off. What in the world had just happened? She was more riled up than a chicken with a fox in the coop. She forced herself to stop for a moment, breathe deeply, and clear her mind. If she didn’t settle down, she’d scare off any game within a two-mile radius, and game was getting scarce as it was with the cold weather blowing in.

It took her much longer than usual, and she lost two arrows before she finally made a good shot and brought down a fat rabbit. By the time she got back to camp, Cilla had calmed down a bit but still felt jittery as she started dressing the rabbit to cook over the fire that Leo had crackling cheerily.

They ate in silence, cleaned up, and crawled into their bedrolls without saying a word to each other. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though. In fact, despite the stolen glances they had both taken throughout their meal, Cilla drifted off to sleep feeling more settled and comfortable in Leo’s presence than she had since he’d appeared at the ranch. Perhaps she was finally getting used to him after all.

Cilla woke suddenly in the middle of the night and jumped to her feet in a defensive crouch, the knife she kept shoved her in her boot was already in her hand and ready to do damage. The large shadow that had been looming over her swore.

“Cilla! It’s just me,” Leo said, holding his hands out.

Cilla relaxed her stance but didn’t drop the knife just yet. Her body rippled in goosebumps and her jaw was clenched so tightly her joints ached, though it didn’t stop her teeth from chattering.

“What are you doing?” she managed to get out.

“Your rattling teeth woke me. I was just trying to warm you up a bit.”

Cilla tried to snort but the sound didn’t quite make it out. Leo apparently got the gist though.

“I’m not going to try anything funny. But I’m freezing too. We’ll both be a lot warmer if we huddle up. I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise.”

Cilla believed him. Somehow it didn’t make her feel as relieved as it should have.

Another gust of wind blew through the clearing, and Cilla nodded, her teeth clattering. She crawled back inside her bedroll and held her body as stiff as she could while Leo crawled in behind her, tucking their coats and his bedroll around them both. Cilla tried to keep from touching him too much but as soon as his body heat started seeping into her, she pressed back against him with a sigh.

Leo pulled the blankets over their heads and wrapped himself about her, draping a leg over hers and running his hands up and down her arms, his warm breath heating her neck. And other parts of her.

“Better?” Leo asked, his breath tickling her ear.

Cilla nodded, not trusting her voice to remain steady.

“You’re trembling.”

Yes, she was. But it had nothing to do with being cold.

“I’m fine now, thanks,” she said, trying to scoot away from him.

He wasn’t having any of that. He kept his arms firmly about her. “Good. Let’s keep it that way. You won’t be any good to anyone if you freeze to death in the middle of the night because you were too embarrassed to let me hold you.”

“I’m not embarrassed!”

Leo pulled her closer. “Yes, you are.”

Cilla tried to elbow him and he chuckled.

She let him hold her, sighing as some heat returned to her body. Leo molded himself to her, encircling her in a cocoon of muscle and heat. His leg tightened around hers and the hand that rubbed her arm slowed, following the line of her shoulder to her wrist and back again in a leisurely caress. The warmth permeating her body began to spread much deeper, down to the hidden core she usually tried her best to ignore. Cilla could feel every hard line of Leo through their clothing and she was surprised at how badly she wished they were wearing a little less.

After a few minutes, she turned enough so that she could look up at him.

“Leo, about Jake…I don’t know…”

“Shhh.” He rested his forehead against hers. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Cilla closed her eyes, her heart pounding in her chest so loudly she was afraid Leo could hear it. She tried to keep her breaths regularly spaced and even, but with his breath mingling with hers, his lips so close, Cilla was in serious danger of hyperventilating.

Leo raised his head and Cilla opened her eyes to look up at him. Her lips parted and Leo’s arms tightened about her. He leaned down a fraction of an inch. Cilla almost rose up to meet him but she froze.

What was she doing?

This was her sister’s husband. Temporary, maybe, and not in the true sense of the word, but if they couldn’t find Jake, and it seemed less and less likely that they would, then Brynne was going to need a husband at her back. Cilla had no right to be doing…what she thought they were about to do.

She turned her face and rolled back onto her side. “Good night, Leo.”

He exhaled behind her and for a moment Cilla was afraid he might not take no for answer. If he put any effort into it at all, she’d be done for.

But he didn’t do anything. Instead, he sighed and settled back down behind her, his arms becoming an innocent cocoon of warmth about her. “Good night, Cilla.”

It seemed to take forever, but Cilla finally fell asleep, waiting to feel a sense of relief that never came.

Chapter Seven

It took another week of uneasy nights before Leo and Cilla finally made it back to the ranch to deliver the depressing news that they hadn’t found out any information on Jake or his whereabouts. Brynne took the news better than Leo expected. Perhaps she was beginning to accept what, deep down, they all probably knew. That something terrible had happened to Jake and he was never coming back.

Cilla had taken to avoiding Leo at every turn. After a few days of her giving him the cold shoulder, Leo stopped trying to force his company on her. But he couldn’t forget about the nights they’d spent wrapped in each other’s arms.

In an effort to keep his mind and body busy, he threw himself into the chores that needed doing around the ranch, making sure that he collapsed into bed each night too exhausted to do anything but sleep. It was working for the moment, but he didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up.

One night, a few weeks after he and Cilla had returned, Leo woke around midnight. He lay still for a moment, trying to pinpoint what had disturbed him. A rustling noise, followed by the creak of a wagon and the muffled stomping of horse hooves filtered in through the closed window.

He got up and went to look outside. The scene in the courtyard below had him diving for his clothes. All three sisters, along with Miguel and Carmen, were loading something into the wagon. Something heavy. Something he could only conclude they didn’t want him to see since they were doing it in the dead of night.

He pulled on his boots and strapped on his gun as fast as he could. Still, by the time he made it downstairs and out the back door, the wagon had already left, leaving Brynne, Carmen, and Miguel whispering quietly on the porch.

Leo waited impatiently for them to disperse. Brynne disappeared back inside and Miguel and Carmen went into their little cottage behind the main house before he snuck into the barn and saddled his own horse. He set out after the wagon, following them around the back of the property where they’d disappeared into a small copse of trees. He slowed his horse, picking his way carefully through the woods, keeping an eye out for any sign of Cilla. Nothing. He reined in, listening carefully. A faint whinny sounded from the direction of the hills and he turned his horse to follow it.

After several minutes he came upon an old mine. The horse and wagon waited just outside the entrance. Leo tied his horse to a tree out of sight of the entrance and crept closer. He stepped inside and listened again while he waited for his eyes to adjust to the dim lantern light filtering from ahead. Two voices, barely audible. He went deeper inside, ducking to keep from bashing his head against the low beams supporting the ceiling.

He paused once again to listen when he came to a fork in the tunnels. A lantern had been left outside the tunnels, but gave him no clue about which one the girls might have gone down. He went inside the left shaft a few feet. His fingers trailed along the damp, dirt wall. Nothing. The air felt thick and stale sliding into his lungs. A few loose rocks rained down on him and he backed out and tried the right side. After a couple feet there was a bend in the tunnel. He leaned forward, craning his neck around the corner. A weak light shone at the end of the shaft. Cilla’s voice echoed up to him, answered by a fainter one. Had to be Lucy.

He crept in farther. The end of the tunnel opened into a wider chamber dimly lit by a few flickering torches. An old mine cart sat just in front of the entrance and he crouched behind it, peeking over the top. Another light flared as Cilla lit a lantern.

“Maybe we shouldn’t be doing this today,” Lucy said. “Now that Frank is back in town and prowling around and Leo up at the house…”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but these supplies won’t keep forever and neither will the folks needing them. It’s already been too long since our last run.”

Lucy sat with her back to the dirt wall, examining a gun. Cilla was loading saddlebags with what looked like supplies—lumpy bags of foodstuffs, bundles of herbs, and various other pouches that could be anything.

Leo leaned forward, trying to get a closer look at what they were doing, but doing so bumped the cart he was hiding behind. The cart squealed forward a few rusty inches. He muttered a curse as the girls froze. Cilla went for her gun.

“It’s just me,” Leo said, walking into the light.

Cilla frowned, her eyes blazing at him. “What are you doing here?”

“I think a better question would be what are you doing here? Odd place for chores.” He walked another foot closer and Cilla raised her gun.

“Cilla,” Lucy hissed.

Cilla lingered a moment longer and then shoved her gun back in its holster. Leo joined them. She wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, leaving a streak of dirt on her pale skin. Leo bit his lip to keep from smiling. He almost reached up to wipe it off, but changed his mind. She was liable to shoot a hole in his gut rather than thank him for it.

Cilla turned her back on him and took another bundle from Lucy. She finished loading her packages and then grabbed a torch, putting it out in a small puddle near the wall. Lucy followed suit with the last two torches, plunging them into near darkness. Cilla raised the remaining lamp, the soft oil light softening the features of her face.

“After you.” Cilla jerked her head, motioning him to go in front of her.

The smell of sweet hay, fresh dirt, and the clean scent of pine floated from her. Leo couldn’t help but gaze at her as the lantern light danced on her face, illuminating the gold specks flashing in the depths of her brown eyes. Sweet angels of mercy, she was beautiful.

He lifted his hand and gently brushed the dirt from her cheek. She jerked back, eyes narrowed.

He sighed and took off his hat, running his hands through his hair. “My apologies, Priscilla.”

She didn’t speak for a moment, but apparently decided to let his momentary lapse slip.

“Look, I know it hasn’t been exactly easy for us to trust each other. And you’ve been a huge help, both with Frank and around the ranch. I’m grateful, truly. But don’t pry into our secrets, Leo. Those are ours to keep.”

He stared at her for one heartbeat. Two. “For now.”

Cilla stared back at him, indecision warring in her eyes. Finally, she said, “We’ll see you back at the ranch then.”

Leo had no intention of leaving until he knew what was going on. And what was in the back of their wagon.

“Maybe I can help.”

Cilla cocked an eyebrow. Leo gestured to heavily laden saddlebags leaning against the wall.

“I think we can manage. Thanks, anyway.”

He was being dismissed and he knew it. Fine. He’d play their game. He’d wait until they left and then just follow along behind.

Cilla accompanied him to the entrance and followed him to his horse, waiting until he’d mounted.

“Don’t trust me?” he asked, giving her an amused grin.

“I don’t trust anyone.”

His smile faded at the sad exhaustion in her voice. She was too young to have such a weary soul. He tipped his hat to her and rode off. He hated to contribute to the weight on her shoulders, but he couldn’t just let her disappear into the night with that wagon. Not until he found out what, or who, was in it.

Leo caught up with the sisters about a quarter mile away from the mine. He’d run out of trees to hide among and had been forced out onto the open trail. He couldn’t have disguised his approach if he’d wanted to, so he didn’t make any effort to do so. Cilla showed no surprise when he cantered up beside them.

At least not that he could see. It was hard to tell exactly what she was thinking with her bandana covering her face and her hat pulled so low he could barely see her eyes.

Cilla rounded on him before he could get a word out. “I told you we didn’t need your help. If you are going to insist on following our every move, would you at least have the decency to do so quietly?”

Leo was cold and tired, and the secret goings-on and midnight rendezvous were beginning to wear on him. He rarely lost his patience, but Priscilla Richardson made him want to pull out his hair.

“What’s the matter? Trying to rob and batter a few more citizens? Don’t want your cover blown before you can attack another coach or two?”

Cilla waved him off. “You really need to get over that. That was months ago. And I barely touched you. We only rob the people who deserve to be robbed, so you can stop losing sleep over our poor little victims.”

“No one deserves to be robbed and beaten!”

“We don’t beat anyone! You were a special case.”

Her tone sounded like his exception amused her. Before he could say anything else, she waved him off again. “Look, as much as I’d like to sit around and trade insults with you all night, we still have a lot of work to do and I’d like to get it over with sooner rather than later. Frank has been too quiet lately. I don’t want to take any more chances than necessary.”

Lucy cracked the reins and steered the horses into a small copse of trees that lay several yards off the main trail. Leo was surprised at how little noise the wagon made and it didn’t seem to be leaving a trail at all, though it was hard to tell in the dark of night.

The girls jumped down and moved to the back of the wagon. Leo followed suit and felt a twinge of admiration when he got a closer look at the rig. The wheels had been wrapped in fabric and there was an arrangement of twigs and branches, some of them also wrapped in fabric, dangling from the backside of the wagon.

Leo’s eyes followed the path that the wagon had taken to the trees and realized that the assortment of laundry and shrubbery hanging from the wagon had served to stir up the dirt as the wagon passed, effectively erasing its tracks. Even the horses’ hooves were covered in thick fabric. While that might not have obliterated their prints entirely, it did muffle the sound of their passing.

Clever. But his grudging admiration evaporated when the sisters climbed into the wagon and began dragging the heavy sack out. Cilla jumped down, pulling while Lucy pushed. Leo grabbed Cilla’s arm, squeezing so hard she gasped.

“What’s in there?” he asked, fear tightening like a vice around his chest.

“Let go,” she whispered, yanking her arm from his grip.

“It’s just flour,” Lucy said, hopping off the wagon to help pull the sack out.

“Flour?” He frowned but released Cilla.

“Flour and some fencing posts,” Lucy said, giving the sack one last pull. It fell to the ground with a thud.

Some of Leo’s fear dissipated, leaving him thoroughly drained and even more thoroughly confused. That feeling intensified when Cilla pulled her bow and quiver of arrows from under the wagon seat.

“You’re kidding, right?” he said, gesturing to the unwieldy weapon in her hands. “Surely you aren’t hunting game now?”

Cilla ignored him, marching to the other side of the thicket. Several yards away sat a small homestead and ramshackle barn. Cilla took aim but Leo grasped her arm again, though this time he took care not to squeeze.

“What is going on, Priscilla?”

She didn’t pull from his hold. He moved closer and reached over to pull her bandana from her face. Her exhausted eyes stared back at him. She looked as though she could collapse any moment.

It was all Leo could do to keep from wrapping his arms about her. The urge surprised him, especially considering what he’d thought her capable of only moments before. But he just couldn’t help it. He wanted to make all her troubles go away, do whatever it took to erase that tired, haunted look from her eyes. But he knew enough about her to know she wouldn’t thank him for his protective thoughts. She’d more likely gut him where he stood.

He let go of her arm, but he didn’t step away from her.

“Frank doesn’t just harass us. He’s got his greedy hooks into the townspeople as well. He’s draining them dry, levying taxes against them to pay for his ‘protection’ squads. But the people don’t have much to give, so the squads take it by force. The gold ran out, the miners stopped coming. The people who are left could probably eke out a decent life for themselves if Frank left them alone. But he doesn’t.

“So we do what we can. If we just gave out money, it would be questioned. We do give a bit of money when we can, but mostly we provide goods to keep the people from starving. The Jorgensens there,” Cilla said, nodding at the cottage beyond the trees, “they used to do a good business back when the town was full of miners, selling pans, shovels, picks…just about anything the miners needed.”

She notched the arrow against the string again, though she didn’t draw it back yet. “Mrs. Jorgenson was in town the other day, had barely scraped together enough to buy a tiny sack of flour that won’t last her family more than a couple days. That sack,” she said, nodding at the now-covered mound in the dirt, “will last them months.”

“And the fencing posts?”

“We heard they’d lost part of their fence in the last storm that blew through. They could make their own posts, of course, but Mr. Jorgenson isn’t as spry as he used to be. And we had extra.”

A trickle of what Leo suspected was shame crept through him. He tried to ignore it. He had every right to be suspicious of the secrets the sisters kept.

“What about the arrow?” He reached out to touch a poppy that had been tied to the shaft.

Cilla released a harried sigh that would have done his mother proud, but she answered him. “Lets them know that Blood Blade left them a present.”

She took aim again and clumsily loosed an arrow. It didn’t fly straight, but it did hit the side of the barn with a soft thunk. Leo caught a glimpse of a faint smile before she covered her face again.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a lot more work to do.”

“Let me help.”

She started to shake her head but Lucy chimed in before she could say no. “Come on, Cilla. The horses could move faster if they weren’t weighed down so much, and we could be done sooner and back in bed.”

She stifled a yawn and Leo could see Cilla wavering. He was surprised at how much he wanted her to say yes. Only a few minutes before, he’d been certain that she was getting ready to bury his brother’s body in the dead of night, and now here he was nearly salivating at the chance to help her. He wasn’t sure what had caused the change of heart, though the fact that she’d been burying flour and not his only sibling went a long way in her favor.

All he knew was that he couldn’t just leave her alone. She looked so tired. In all the time he’d been at the ranch, he hadn’t seen her stop once. She spent all day mending fences, tending their small field of crops, taking care of the animals, or doing whatever else needed doing to run the ranch, and he’d be willing to bet that while he’d been slumbering away, she’d remained awake, getting her “presents” ready for delivery like some Robin Hood–style Santa Claus.

Finally, she nodded. “Fine. But keep quiet, do what I say, and stay out of my way. And cover your face.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, yanking a handkerchief out of his pocket to tie around his face.

Cilla and Lucy filled his saddlebags with all sorts of contraband—food stuffs, packets of seeds, vials of medicine. Even a few small bags of coin and precious gold nuggets.

Once everything was redistributed, Cilla clasped Lucy in a quick hug. “Be careful. Meet back here in three hours.”

Lucy nodded, mounted her horse, and was gone before Leo could say a word.

“Where is she going?” he asked.

Cilla mounted her own horse. “The Hudner family’s about an hour’s ride up the mountain trail. The father broke his leg, hasn’t been able to work. Frank’s been threatening to evict them if they can’t pay their rent. So Blood Blade decided to make a small donation.”

Leo couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the satisfaction in her voice. Though he’d had no hand in the help they were providing, even he felt a twinge of gratification knowing he was helping thwart Frank in aiding the deserving family.

“Since you’ve insisted on tagging along, Lucy can make the run up the mountain while we make the other deliveries and we can be done in half the time.”

Cilla said this as if it was a bad thing, and Leo bit back the sarcastic remark that danced on his lips. They’d built a tenuous friendship since their disastrous search for Jake, one he wanted to continue to build, and she’d allowed him to stay, however grudgingly. He certainly wasn’t going to waste his precious headway by poking at her like a child with a stick would poke at a porcupine.

Priscilla Richardson was a fireball of contradictions, soft enough to enjoy helping those she barely knew, and tough enough to fight for them tooth and nail. Passionate enough to respond to even his slightest touch, but strong enough to keep from acting on their obvious attraction to each other.

She was beautiful, distractingly so, even with that scar running down her face, and loving toward her sisters, but dangerous enough he’d had no trouble suspecting her of cold-hearted murder.

Who was this woman?

He felt like the biggest idiot in the world, but he wanted to find out.

Cilla guided her horse through the trees, following the direction of the main trail but keeping as hidden as possible.

“That family Lucy is going to…Frank owns their land?” Leo asked.

“Frank owns most of the land around here,” Cilla said, her voice simmering with anger. “He bought it up as the gold miners ran out of money and moved out.”

“Where did you get all this?” Leo asked, patting the bulging saddlebags and bringing his horse alongside Cilla’s.

She was barely visible in the darkness but it looked as though she shrugged. “We spare what we can from our own stores and share the fees Blood Blade brings in. When people have something they want found, something they want done, they pay whatever they can. Food, livestock. Sometimes money or gold. We’ve been lucky to have enough to share, so we do when we can. Sometimes, if it’s necessary and possible, we just purchase what we need.”

Leo opened his mouth to ask another question, but Cilla shushed him. They were nearing another homestead.

He spent the next several hours with her going from one home to another, leaving an offering at nearly all the places they passed. It was gratifying, but by the time they made it back to the small copse to meet Lucy, Leo was dead on his feet. They quickly harnessed Maynard to the wagon and sat back to wait for Lucy.

“How often do you do this?”

Cilla rubbed a hand across her eyes and when she spoke, it sounded as if she were stifling a yawn.

“Not nearly as often as they need it. We can’t go out too often or give too much without raising suspicion. Frank won’t notice an extra bag of wheat or a basket of vegetables here or there, as long as there isn’t too much. The money is more of an issue, but if the people we give to are careful, even that can go unnoticed.”

Cilla sighed and slumped against her horse, which turned its massive head to affectionately nudge her. “The problem is that more and more people need help. Our resources can only be stretched so far. There is only so much we can do. And it never seems to be enough.”

“I’m sure it doesn’t feel that way to those you help.”

Cilla looked up at him, her eyes shining in the faint moonlight. “I hope you’re right.”

Leo took a step closer and for once, Cilla didn’t back away. He reached out and gently pulled her bandana away from her face. She didn’t protest, though she watched him warily.

“It isn’t your fault, you know.”

Cilla looked at the ground, but Leo grasped her chin and brought her gaze back up to meet his.

“What Frank’s doing, it’s not your fault. He might be your brother, but that doesn’t make you responsible.”

Cilla jerked out of his grasp. “I know that,” she said, yanking her bandana back into place.

Leo sighed. He had to go and poke the porcupine. He’d never learn.

Lucy cantered into the trees, effectively ending any further conversation between them.

“Did you have any trouble?” Cilla asked.

“Nope. I left the bag inside the well bucket and put the poppies on the edge of the well, just like you said.”

“Poppies?” Leo asked.

“Blood red flowers. Blood Blade,” Cilla answered with the same tone his mother used to use when he was being particularly obstinate or dense. “So they know—”

“That Blood Blade has left something, I get it,” he said, biting back his own impatience. Hey, he was new to all this thieving and banditry stuff. There wasn’t any need for her to get irritated about it.

“Did anyone see you?” Cilla asked Lucy.

Lucy snorted. “Of course not.”

Cilla dragged herself into her saddle. “Good. Let’s go home. I’m tired.”

Leo wasn’t about to argue with her on that point and neither, it seemed, was Lucy. They steered the horses out of the trees and headed back for the ranch as quickly and as quietly as they could.

Chapter Eight

Cilla leaned against her rake for a moment to catch her breath. She’d been mucking out stalls and spreading new hay all morning and she’d only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, thanks to their deliveries. She would never admit it, but with Leo there, it had gone much quicker. Miguel helped when he could, but he was getting older, and Cilla preferred him to stay at home to watch over Brynne when she had to be gone at night, though she’d never dare say so in front of her sister.

Well, if they were stuck with the man for a few months, he might as well help out with all the chores they needed done.

Since it had been a couple months since Leo’s sudden appearance and Frank still hadn’t made a move, the sisters had decided to resume normal banditry activities, though they had to be more cautious than before. That suited Cilla just fine. She’d been champing at the bit for weeks. It wasn’t in her nature to sit back and do nothing and the fact that Frank was intimidating them into hiding didn’t sit well with her at all.

Luckily, some information had come their way that was too good to pass up. The Babcock family had approached the sisters to appeal to Blood Blade to retrieve a knife, a prized family heirloom that they had been forced to turn over to Frank in lieu of taxes. Frank had lost it in a bad game of poker to one of his cronies, a disgusting pig of a man who just happened to be leaving town. The sisters needed to come out of seclusion and get back to work.

Cilla just hoped she could ditch Leo long enough to get the job done. He might have been helpful with deliveries, but there was no way she’d let him ride with Blood Blade.

…

Leo kept a careful eye on Cilla, determined not to let her out of his sight, even he wasn’t sure if it was because he wanted to make sure she wasn’t sneaking off to commit some heinous crime or because he wanted to help her in whatever task she had up her sleeve. Either way, he wasn’t going to let her go out again alone. Not with Frank prowling around.

Leo had noticed Frank’s men milling around town when the girls were running errands and hovering near the borders of the property. Always watching. Waiting. For what, Leo wasn’t sure. But he wasn’t about to let his brother’s wife and unborn child come to any more harm than had already befallen them. And Cilla…he knew she could take care of herself. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to do what he could to protect her. Whether she wanted him to or not.

Life had been quiet for a couple weeks when Leo was again awakened in the middle of the night. He was out of bed and pursuing Lucy and Cilla before their dust had cleared on the trail.

Brynne was still dozing on the sofa where she’d dropped soon after dinner. As soon as he heard the quiet clop of hooves leaving the courtyard, Leo made his way to the barn, saddled up, and steered his horse toward the mine.

Cilla’s horse and the brown mare were tied up just outside. Leo was pleased his intuition had proved correct. He tethered his horse out of sight. Creeping as quietly as he could through the darkened passageways, he finally came to the abandoned cart he’d hidden behind earlier. He crouched behind it again, taking care not to touch it this time as he leaned over and peered into the cavern beyond. Cilla and Lucy stood against one wall, their heads together as Lucy rummaged in a knapsack. She pulled out two small bundles wrapped in fabric and handed them to Cilla. Her hand plunged into the bag once more and she extracted a small, lumpy pouch. Cilla took that from her as well.

“I’ll be right back,” Cilla said as she tucked the parcels into her shirt. She climbed onto an overturned crate and reached up, her fingers grasping a small ledge that Leo hadn’t even noticed. Cilla found a toehold with one booted foot and climbed onto the ledge, disappearing into a dark space behind it.

Lucy slumped against the cavern wall and slid to the floor. She dropped her face into her hands and rubbed at her eyes. She looked so helpless. And so tired. Leo’s gut twisted. What the sisters did was noble, but they were too young to carry such a burden. The fate of an entire town should not rest on their shoulders.

Another peek over the cart showed Lucy dozing off, her head bobbing as she drifted away. Leo couldn’t help the brotherly affection that rushed through him. Damn it all, he’d rather scoop her up and tuck her into a nice, warm, safe bed than follow her around the countryside in the middle of the night.

Leo knew he’d bargained his matrimonial virtue to pay for their help in finding his brother, but he found himself wanting to help them more and more with each passing day.

After a few more minutes, Cilla’s legs reappeared over the ledge and she flipped onto her stomach to lower herself down. Leo couldn’t help but admire the view. Her trousers hugged every inch of her, contouring everything from her shapely legs to her firm round backside that wriggled in the air for a moment before she dropped to the cavern floor.

Leo closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to control the sinful thoughts running rampant through his head. He’d never been one to dwell on a lady’s backside, but then again, he’d never seen one packaged quite so nicely. Leo gave himself a mental slap and tried to focus on the matter at hand.

Cilla smiled at Lucy and brushed off her hands. “Ready?”

Lucy gave her sister a tired smile and stood up. “Are you sure we can’t do this tomorrow night?”

Cilla frowned. “I know you’re tired, Luce, but it has to be tonight. They’ll be too far away by tomorrow night. It’s going to take a couple hours of hard riding to catch them up as it is.” Cilla tilted her head and examined her sister. “I thought you liked going on jobs with me.”

Leo leaned forward, a jolt of anxiety stabbing at his veins.

Lucy sighed. “I know. I do, really. I’m glad you let me help now. I’m just so tired.”

Cilla smiled again and gave her sister a quick hug. “I know. Me too. We just have to get this one taken care of and then we can relax for a few days, okay?”

Lucy nodded and started to gather their things. Leo backtracked out of the tunnel. He made it to the central cavern, but the girls’ voices were growing louder behind him. He ducked into the left-hand fork just before the girls exited. As soon as they had gone through the mine entrance out into the night, he followed them.

…

Cilla and Lucy perched at the top of the hill, gazing down on the campfires below. They could see a few men sat huddled around the flames in a small copse of trees.

“There’s three of them,” Lucy said, glancing at Cilla.

Cilla ignored the unease swimming in her gut. “Outnumbered by one, but that shouldn’t be a problem.” She pointed at the bottle being passed among the men. “If we’re lucky, they’ll be out cold before we even get down there.”

Lucy nodded. Cilla looked at the countryside behind them. Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the landscape. Her gaze moved to the sky, taking in the vast canopy of stars above her. Her stomach knotted. She hated these robberies. But without the fees in goods, services, and gold that they collected, the town would have gone under long ago.

Besides, Frank, Jackson, and the rest of his goons were behind most of the townspeople’s stolen items. Well, at least Cilla considered them stolen. When the townsfolk had to hawk their valuables to “pay” the sheriff to protect them, from his own henchmen, no less, she considered that downright thievery. Cilla found a rough sense of pride in thwarting Frank by retrieving the townspeople’s lost treasures, as if it went in some way toward reclaiming some of the Richardson honor Frank had ruthlessly destroyed.

And right now, one of those drunk thugs who worked for Frank was in possession of a family heirloom, the jeweled dagger their client—and town baker—had brought all the way from Scotland, only to have it stolen during a raid of his property. The baker had paid Blood Blade with flour to get the dagger back for him. And get it back they would.

Cilla and Lucy waited another hour until the fire had burned to embers, casting a warm glow over the men snoring by its warmth. Once they were certain the men were asleep, the girls tethered their horses to a tree and crept down the hill, surefooted even in the rocky terrain. There was one more crop of rocks before the ground smoothed out into the tree-dotted meadow in which the men camped.

But before they headed down, Cilla needed to take care of a little problem. She and Lucy ducked behind a large boulder.

“Move to the end and stay there,” Cilla whispered. Lucy sidled as far from Cilla as she could get while still staying undercover.

A boot crunched through the rocks and dry twigs. The sound came closer. Closer.

Cilla’s hand shot out, her gun steady.

Aimed right at Leo.

“Lucky catch,” he whispered, putting his hands in the air, showing her they were empty before dropping them to his sides.

“Hardly,” she whispered back, her voice muffled by the black cloth covering the lower half of her face. “I’ve known you were following us since about three minutes after we left the mine.”

She backed up a little, motioning with the gun for him to follow. When he was safely hidden behind the boulder with them, she put up her gun and stepped so close to him she could feel the heat from his body soaking into hers.

Cilla pulled the bandana down from her face. “What are you doing here?”

Leo leaned forward to whisper, his breath tickling her cheek. “I should ask you the same thing.” He gestured to her dark clothing, the gun at her side, the bandana lying in wait around her neck. “What do you think you are doing?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with. Now get back on your horse and get out of here.” The man was begging for a beating. She might hurt herself giving one to him, but it would be more than worth it.

“The hell I will. You’re trying to commit suicide!”

Cilla snorted. “Hardly.”

Leo continued to glare. She rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t go getting your chaps in a twist. I know what I’m doing. I don’t need you or anyone else sneaking around following me. And you! You left Brynne alone! We were counting on you to keep her safe while we …take care of some business.”

“Business, huh? Is that what you call it? You’re getting ready to rob those men just like you robbed the coach I was driving.”

“Just like a dozen other coaches I’ve robbed over the last year. What’s your point? You know who I am, what I do. And why I do it. What are you making such a fuss for? You should have stayed back at the ranch. Out of my way.”

He crossed his arms, his narrowed eyes resembled a snake with his tail in a kink. Cilla was tempted to check out his hind end for any telltale signs of rattling.

Leo leaned even closer, forcing Cilla to look up to maintain their eye contact. “Is that what happened to my brother? He went along with you on one of your little raids and got himself captured or killed? Or worse, he wouldn’t go along with you, maybe wanted to turn you in, so you shut him up for good, is that it?”

Cilla’s mouth dropped open in shock. The accusation was so harsh she wasn’t sure how to respond to it for a second. “Is that what you really believe? That I, that any of us, would be capable of that?”

Leo took a deep breath and released it slowly. He closed his eyes. “I don’t know. No.” He opened them and stared at her for a moment before shaking his head. “No. But damn it, Priscilla, I don’t know what to think of all this now. Two girls, roaming the countryside. Bandit sisters, ha! And Brynne too. I’m sure she would be here if it weren’t for…”

“Right. If it weren’t for the fact that she’s carrying your brother’s child. The brother who ran off and left her alone, without protection or a way to support herself. With Frank breathing down our necks! Don’t you dare judge what we are doing. We are keeping our family safe and fed, keeping our roof over our heads. And helping out as many people as we can along the way.” Cilla was close to hyperventilating. She tried to calm her breathing.

“You already knew all this. Why the sudden hissy fit?”

Leo looked at her. Cilla relaxed a bit when she saw the tension drain out of him.

“I apologize. I have no right to judge. I just…don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

Cilla opened her mouth to reply but under the pressure from Leo’s gaze suddenly couldn’t think of a single thing to say. He was worried about her? That was sort of…sweet. The way he was staring at her, his eyes burning into hers as if he’d never truly seen her before, set loose a swarm of butterflies in her gut that had nothing to do with the upcoming raid. She was flattered really—and she refused to acknowledge it might be more than that—but she had no time for that right now.

But Leo spoke again before she could say anything else. “For what it’s worth,” he continued, “though I know you have no cause to believe me, I don’t believe my brother would’ve just run off and left his pregnant wife. If he’s gone, something happened to him.”

Leo rubbed his hand over his eyes, releasing Cilla from the intensity of his gaze. She sucked in a lungful of cold air, her chest screaming like she’d been holding her breath for far too long. Had she?

She shook her head and answered him. “I don’t believe so, either. Jake was—is—a good man.”

They stared at each other a moment, settling into their renewed truce.

“So, you want to tell me why you are out here?” Leo said.

Cilla sighed. “I thought you’d already figured that out for yourself.”

Leo continued to stare at her. Fine. Time was ticking along and Cilla had precious little to spare. Maybe if she told him what he wanted to know, he’d go away and let her do her job.

She pointed to the men by the fire. “A jeweled dagger was taken from our client, supposedly to be turned into the sheriff’s office. Jackson and Jed, Frank’s goons, claimed it was used against them without provocation. More like one of them saw it and wanted it. When my client went to Frank to complain, he claimed he’d never seen it and the man who took it had been with him at the time everything supposedly happened.

“Frank even let our client search the premises, but he didn’t find anything. So he hired us to get it back for him. We got word that a rancher by the name of Ted Lurkett, an associate of Frank’s, was in possession of said dagger.”

“Really. And who did you get this information from? Frank?”

“No,” Cilla snapped. “Bobby Green at the general store keeps his ears open for us. He saw the dagger on Lurkett the other day when Lurkett went into the store for supplies.”

“And why is Bobby so keen on helping you? Maybe he works for Frank and is just setting you up. You ever thought about that?”

“Yeah, I have. But Bobby has given us reliable information before. And besides, he’s sweet on Lucy,” Cilla said, gesturing at her sister. They both ignored Lucy’s embarrassed protest.

“Bobby found out where Lurkett was headed. And Blood Blade rides again.”

“Priscilla…you can’t keep…”

“I can’t keep what?” she said, anger extinguishing the butterflies that had been running rampant just moments before. If he pulled some king-of-the-cattle-ranch horse shit about how it was too dangerous for the little woman to be out running raids, she’d skewer him through the gullet. She’d probably been out pulling jobs before he’d learned to shave. She didn’t need him telling her what to do.

Leo reached out and wrapped his hands around her arms, pulling her to him. He leaned in. Close. Too close for Cilla’s comfort. Though she couldn’t quite muster the strength to push him away.

“What if something happens to you?” he whispered. “What would happen to your sisters then? Brynne would be alone with her child. Lucy is little more than a child herself. If you keep putting yourself in danger…”

He didn’t finish his sentence. He didn’t need to. It was something Cilla had thought about a hundred times. A million times. And it was something she couldn’t afford to think of now. She needed her head firmly on her shoulders, not lost in a terrifying cloud of what-ifs.

Leo held her gaze. She became more aware of her surroundings, and the fact that she was still pressed against Leo’s chest. The warmth melting into her bones was transforming into sharp tingles. She pushed away from him. “If you’ll excuse us, we have work to do.”

Leo tightened his grip before she could turn away. “Wait.”

“What? I haven’t got all night.”

He took a deep breath, his eyes burning into hers. Then he gave a little nod, as if he had decided on something. “I’ll help you.”

She stared at him. “What do you mean?”

“I mean there are three men down there and there are only two of you. And you are…”

Cilla waited for him to spew some nonsense about how she was a weak little woman who needed a man to do everything for her.

He gave her a small smile. “…Outnumbered and exhausted. You’ve hardly slept for more than a few hours in the last…well, since I’ve met you. Let me help. It’ll be safer for Lucy.”

“What’dya mean, safer for me? I don’t need any babysitting,” Lucy piped up from her corner.

Cilla gazed at her baby sister. Leo had used the one argument that was guaranteed to sway her. For Lucy, she’d accept his help. But she didn’t have to like it. She turned back to Leo. “Fine. Just follow me and don’t get in my way.”

Leo nodded, though he still didn’t look like he was happy with the situation. Tough. He was lucky she was letting him go along at all.

Together, they crept toward the campsite. When they got closer, they spread out, staying within the cover of the trees. Cilla tried to ignore the nausea building in her gut. Lucy thought their raids were adventurous and exciting. But Cilla hated every minute. There was too much at stake if they were caught. But so much to gain when they succeeded.

Lucy circled around to the opposite side of the campfire, her movements mirroring Cilla’s. Cilla caught Leo’s gaze and nodded at the third man. Leo frowned but took up his position.

One of the men groaned and they froze, still invisible in the tree line. The man grunted, scratched himself, and rolled over. Cilla inched toward the man who was sleeping on his saddlebag, the leather clutched in his fists. He looked like someone with something to protect.

Cilla looked up at Lucy, who nodded as she unwound a length of rope from around her waist. Cilla grabbed some rope out of the bag at her side and flung it to Leo, pointing at the man nearest him. She unwound the rope from her own waist and went to the man with the saddlebag.

Cilla hated to admit it, but it was handy having Leo there. She was relatively sure she and Lucy could have incapacitated Lurkett’s buddies before he awoke, but it was a relief not to have to risk it. Her knot in her stomach eased slightly and she raised her hand.

At her signal, Lucy bent and hogtied the man at her feet. After a split-second delay, Leo did the same. The two men were bound and gagged before the man at Cilla’s feet had even woken up.

As an extra precaution, blindfolds were tied around the men’s eyes. Cilla’s man still slept, his deep breathing broken only by his loud snores. She pulled her gun, adjusted her bandana to be sure it covered her face, and nudged the man awake.

He sat up, sputtering, his eyes still hazy from drink and sleep. The moment his situation became clear to him, his hand shot to his holster, but Cilla was faster. The cold metal of her gun glowed with the dying embers of the fire. She motioned him away from his bag. He sputtered in protest. The man in front of Leo blindly lunged forward. Leo grabbed a handful of shirt and yanked him back.

“I think you oughta stay put now, unless you want your mama cryin’ at your funeral tomorrow,” Leo said, adding a drawl to his voice that Cilla had never heard from him before. Leo gave the man’s shirt a final twist and cocked his gun.

Lucy kept her gun on the man in front of her and cocked it. Both men froze. Cilla went through Lurkett’s saddlebag with one hand, keeping her eyes and gun fixed on the man in front of her.

At the bottom of the satchel, wrapped in some material, she felt the dagger. She pulled it out and discarded the dirty sock it was wrapped in. Smiling beneath her bandana, she slipped the knife inside her shirt. She stood, kicked the bag as though she hadn’t found anything and went to stand by Leo. She handed him the rope and he went to work, tying and gagging Lurkett.

Once Lurkett’s eyes were covered, Cilla sent Lucy off toward the crop of rocks and her horse. They’d meet back up at the ranch, but it was safer to split up for the moment. She waved Leo off after Lucy. He hesitated only a second, but when he saw her going for the men’s horses, he gave her an approving nod and took off after Lucy. Cilla untied the men’s horses and gave them a good smack on the rump to make them run. She never took any chances. The last thing she needed was the men getting themselves free and making chase.

Cilla headed toward their lookout but stopped cold at a sudden shout from the clearing. She turned to see a fourth man stumbling from the trees. He must have gone to relieve himself and passed out for a while, escaping their notice. But Cilla certainly noticed him now. Especially the gun in his hand, which was pointed unsteadily at her.

“Stop, you!” he shouted. A shot rang out and Cilla ran.

It was a dark night and Cilla knew she could outrun him. But a drunk firing bullets into the dark was still a huge danger. A second shot rang out and Cilla ran faster, praying Leo and Lucy were well ahead.

The man’s shouts were getting more distant, more muffled. She’d almost made it to the crop of rocks, and she could just make out the outline of Leo standing nearby holding her horse’s reins when a third shot rang out.

An invisible force knocked Cilla off her feet, searing fire through her left arm. Leo’s shout of “No!” was quickly cut off. Cilla pulled herself to her knees just as Leo reached her. He hauled her to her feet, half-dragging, half-carrying her to her horse. Maynard swiveled his head toward Cilla, blowing distressed bursts of air through his nose.

“I’m okay, boy,” Cilla said, reaching out to rub her horse’s nose before gripping the pommel of her saddle. Leo tossed her onto Maynard’s back before she could haul herself up.

“I’m fine,” she whispered. “We can go faster singly.”

Leo wasted no time arguing but quickly mounted behind her, leading his horse by the reins behind them. He gave the horses their head and raced off.

Cilla found herself begrudgingly grateful that Leo hadn’t listened to her. Her left arm was completely useless, in turns both numb and burning with agonizing fire. She was pretty sure she’d only been grazed, but for the love of all that was good and holy, it hurt.

Leo rode off in the opposite direction of the ranch, hoping the men would follow them instead of Lucy. She had a good head start, but Leo didn’t want to take any chances.

“How bad is it?” Leo asked, his mouth hovering near her ear.

“Not sure. It hurts like the devil, but I don’t think it’s bleeding much.”

She sucked in her breath when Leo’s fingers gingerly probed her arm. “I don’t think it’s too bad,” he told her. They rode for a while longer until they were certain they weren’t being followed. Leo stopped just long enough to rip Cilla’s sleeve from her shirt. The extent of the damage was impossible to see, but Leo was apparently determined to do what he could to cleanse the wound anyway. He rifled through his saddlebag and removed a flask. Before Cilla could protest, he’d dumped the contents over her arm, pouring a river of fire into her wound. She clamped her lips together but couldn’t prevent a whimper from escaping.

“Sorry,” Leo murmured as he tied the remnants of her sleeve around the wound. He looped the reins of his horse around the pommel of Cilla’s saddle and circled their horses back around. Then he wrapped his arms back around her waist, pulling her securely into the shelter of his body.

They rode for what felt like hours, stopping once to switch to Leo’s horse when Cilla’s grew tired. Cilla allowed her eyes to close, for once feeling safe and secure, even with the pain that burned so hotly in her arm that her entire body throbbed with it. Leo’s arms stayed locked around her and she let herself burrow into their strength. It felt good to let someone else take the lead for a minute. Though she’d never tell him that.

After what seemed like an eternity, they came to the mine. “Stay,” Leo commanded. It was a measure of how bad she felt that she didn’t even consider disobeying him.

Leo jumped down and tied their horses to a post hidden within the trees and then came back and gently eased Cilla from the horse. He bent to swing her into his arms, but Cilla protested.

“Good grief, I can walk. He shot my arm, not my leg.”

Leo didn’t look pleased. He also didn’t release her entirely, but contented himself with wrapping his arm about her waist.

Lucy met them at the mouth of the mine.

“Cilla! What happened?”

“I’m fine,” she said, brushing off her sister’s concern.

“We need to get her inside so I can look at her arm,” Leo said.

Lucy nodded and led the way with her lantern. When they reached the cavern, Leo helped Cilla sit. She leaned against the wall and retrieved the dagger from her shirt. She handed it to Lucy, who immediately went to the ledge and disappeared over the top.

Leo dropped to his knees and worked on her arm in silence. He’d found a canteen and clean bandages in one of the saddlebags. Cilla was nothing if not prepared. He washed out the wound and Cilla sighed in relief when the cold water hit her skin.

The relief was short-lived, however. Leo hit her with another dose of whiskey before she could protest and was in the process of rebandaging the wound before any curses could erupt from her. Before too many could, in any case. The man deserved a few choice words, considering the pain he was putting her through.

“Oh, hush,” he chided, though his lips twitched at her colorful language. “It’s just a scratch.”

Cilla couldn’t do much more than snarl at him. It might just be a scratch, but it was a deep, painful, burning scratch. Still, preferable to a gaping hole.

Leo finished cleaning her up and then he leaned against the wall with a tired sigh.

Cilla chewed her lip for a second before speaking. “Thank you.”

Leo nodded. Cilla squirmed under his gaze, her skin feeling as though a thousand tiny feet marched across it.

Finally he spoke. “How often do you girls do this?”

Cilla looked at him in the soft light of the oil lamp. It softened his features and she wondered how she looked to him. The scar tissue over her eye felt tight and she turned her face slightly into the shadows. She ignored his question. The less he knew, the better.

“I think you owe me an explanation,” he insisted.

The slight tenderness running through her hardened. She stood, brushing him away when he jumped up to help her. “I already told you everything you need to know. I don’t owe you anything.”

“I think you do.”

Her fingers stroked the leather of the holster strapped to her hip. “Look, I appreciate your help with Frank, but I have no delusions about why you did it. You wanted to find your brother. We were the last ones to see him alive. You thought we might know something we haven’t told you and you wanted to stick around and see what you can find out. End of story. Which means we’re scratching your back just as hard as you’re scratching ours. So don’t try and tell me that I owe you.”

“I helped you tonight. And the night you made your deliveries, and I’ve been doing everything I can to help keep your ranch running. Without me, Frank would already be setting up camp in your front yard and you’d be out on your rears. You might have agreed to help me find my brother, but at the moment, I’m certainly scratching your back more than you are mine. I think that deserves something. And after everything we’ve already been through together…”

Cilla stared up at him for a second, her childish urge to kick him in the shins dampened by her sense of fairness. And her memories of all those nights wrapped in his arms as he had shielded her from the cold.

Damn it all, he was right. Though that didn’t mean she had to like it. She exhaled and slapped her hand against her thigh.

“How often do you do this?” he asked again.

Cilla hesitated a second longer, then shrugged, grimacing at the pull in her injured arm.

“Only when someone comes to us for help. And only when we are certain we can help and can get whatever they are looking for back relatively safely.”

Leo’s short laugh sounded anything but amused.

“‘Safely’? You call going up against three, make that four, armed men safe? Lucy’s only a child, for hell’s sake, and you aren’t much older.”

Cilla clenched her fists to keep from striking him, so angry now she relished the burning sensation the movement caused. “I’m no child. I’ve been doing this for quite a while now and have never gotten close to being caught.”

“You have been extraordinarily lucky so far and one of these days you will get caught. Like you almost were tonight. Or worse, killed while trying to steal some foolish family treasure. What good does it do anyway? If these items suddenly turn back up in the possession of the people they were taken from, both you and they could be exposed. And doesn’t Frank wonder where you are getting your money, your goods?”

“I’m not an idiot, Leo! We have a system in place to process the items we’ve managed to retrieve. We are careful with our property, and the money…we only spend a little at a time. Just enough to get by and not nearly enough that anyone would be suspicious.”

“Obviously someone is suspicious or Frank wouldn’t be harassing you night and day.”

Cilla opened her mouth to fire back an answer but couldn’t. She knew he was right. But still…

“And that’s why he wants your ranch so badly, isn’t it? He knows you’ve got everything stashed on the property somewhere and if the ranch is his, he’d be free to search it and keep anything he found. I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cilla glared at him, anger burning its way through every cell of her body. She actually didn’t know if he was right or not. It had never occurred to her that Frank might think there were stolen goods hidden on the property.

Lucy dropped down from the ledge and tiptoed to the tunnel. “I’ll just wait at the entrance for you,” she mumbled in their direction before fleeing from the explosion that was coming.

Cilla’s chest heaved with the effort to keep from screaming at him. She blinked against the tears building in her eyes. And finally it was too much. All of it. Their father, Jake, Frank, Brynne, the robberies, the danger, the fear. Leo.

The anger washed out of her with the first tear that fell. She released a long, shaky breath.

“What choice do we have, Leo?” Her shoulders slumped, curling around the empty hole that had held her anger for so long.

She looked at him through a sheen of tears.

“What else can we do? After my father died, Frank emptied the bank accounts. All the ranch hands quit or were run off. Either way, they are just as gone. Miguel and Carmen are the only ones who refused to be scared off and thank God for them because we’d be lost without them. Things were okay for a while when Jake was here. But then he left, too.

“And we aren’t the only ones suffering because of Frank. We do what we can, but it’s not enough.” Cilla swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She brushed the tears away, wiping them from her hands as if they were acid burning her skin.

She wanted nothing more than to lean into Leo and have him hold her and tell her everything would be okay. She clenched her hands into fists, trying to squeeze out the desire to reach for him.

“We don’t steal from anyone who hasn’t stolen first. And despite what you may think, we don’t enjoy it. I don’t enjoy it. I’m tired and afraid for my family, and sick to death of it all. I’m just…tired.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and stepped back from him. “So don’t you dare come here and judge me. What I do might not be lawful, but when Frank is the law in this town,” and at that her voice wavered and she forced out the final words, “what else can I do?”

Leo looked at her for a long time. Cilla shook her head and turned to go. He reached out. Took her hand. And pulled her into his arms.

Cilla stiffened, her back rigid.

“I’m sorry,” Leo whispered.

Cilla relaxed into him with a strangled sob. She let his strength wrap around her, seep into every pore. She knew she was weak for giving in. She knew she should push away. She would…but in just one more moment.

Leo brushed a few stray tears from her face, his hands lingering, cupping her cheeks. He leaned down slowly, giving her time to pull away. Cilla wasn’t sure what to do. She couldn’t think straight, couldn’t breathe. Her eyes riveted to Leo’s lips and her own parted as she dragged in a tremulous breath.

“Cilla!” Lucy’s panicked shout rang through the tunnels.

Leo and Cilla broke apart, Cilla’s heart pounding with dread. Leo grabbed her hand and they turned and ran through the shaft, the swinging lantern casting disturbing shadows on the tunnel’s walls. Lucy stood at the entrance, her eyes wide in her pale face. She pointed in the direction of the ranch house.

…

The wind shifted direction, blowing hot, acrid-scented air in their faces. In the distance, Leo could just make out a black plume of smoke spiraling into the early morning air.

“Damn! Can you ride?” he asked Cilla.

She sprinted for her horse, not bothering to take time to answer him.

“I guess that’s a ‘yes,’ ” he muttered.

He felt a sharp pang of loss for their interrupted moment. For just a second, he’d gotten to see a side of Cilla that he’d bet his eyeteeth she never let out. It had felt better than he could have imagined to hold her, comfort her, even if it had only lasted a minute. She was so strong. Too strong, maybe. He wished she’d let him in more, let him help her. He’d have given anything if they’d been able to have just a few minutes more. He wanted to kiss her with a need that was growing more urgent by the day.

And now was the most inappropriate time in the world to be dwelling on how badly he wanted to stake his claim on those soft lips.

Leo jumped on his own horse and followed Cilla.

They raced for the house. And Brynne.

Chapter Nine

The scene when they arrived at the house was straight out of Cilla’s nightmares. The animals ran rampant through the courtyard. Flames shot out of the windows. One whole side of the house was engulfed, red tongues of flame licking at the door frames and windowsills. And Brynne was nowhere to be seen.

Cilla yanked her bandana over her face and jumped off her horse. Her arm throbbed in protest, but she ignored it.

“Lucy! Check on the animals!” she shouted over the crackling noise of the inferno. The barn was a safe distance from the house, but with all the smoke and the smell of fire, the animals were in danger of injuring themselves in their panic.

She turned for the house and screamed when she was yanked back. She swung at the arms that held her, frantic to get to her sister.

Leo tightened his grip. “Cilla! You can’t go in there.”

She squirmed, the combination of the smoke and the lump in her throat making it almost impossible to breathe. “We have to get Brynne! She’ll die!”

Leo hesitated a fraction of a second. “If I tell you to run, you run!”

Cilla nodded her head, though she had no intention of following his orders. She was going to get her sister out or die trying.

But Leo seemed to read her mind. “I mean it, Cilla! No heroics. You might not give a damn about yourself, but I do!”

Cilla froze, panic for her sister warring with shock at his words. He seemed surprised at his outburst himself, but they didn’t have time to address it at the moment.

“We’ll do our best to get her out,” he continued, “but throwing your life away isn’t going to help anyone. Think about Lucy. What would she do with both her sisters gone?”

Ice formed in Cilla’s gut despite the heat of the flames beating at her back. He was right. Her chest heaved, her lungs screaming for air. The thought of losing Brynne was more than she could process. But so was the thought of leaving Lucy at the mercy of Frank.

“Promise me you’ll get her out!” she shouted.

Leo grabbed her face between his hands. “I promise.”

Cilla didn’t wait any longer. She turned and ran into the house, crouching low against the wall of smoke that hovered in the air. Once inside, she looked around. The smoke seared her eyes. Each breath brought a new layer of ash to coat her lungs. She coughed. Cleared her throat.

“Brynne!”

Her voice sounded hoarse, cracked. “Brynne!”

Nothing.

Cilla darted into the parlor, keeping her body as low as possible. Brynne wasn’t there, nor was she in the hallway leading to the staircase and the kitchen. Every second that passed weighed Cilla down. Dread danced through every cell. Flames shot from the kitchen door. There was no going in there. Cilla dashed for the stairs. A cracking sound shot through the air. Leo grabbed her, pulling her out of the way as a beam fell from the hallway ceiling.

Cilla huddled against him, a scream frozen in her throat. He leaned his forehead against hers. Their hearts pounded together.

He pulled his bandana from his face and pressed his lips to her ear. “I’ll look upstairs. You get out of here!”

“No!” she screamed. She tried to jerk away from him but he kept his arms tight about her.

“Cilla! Get out of here, now! Go look around back. She might be in the yard. I’ll check upstairs. Go!”

Cilla glared at him through the tears clouding her vision. She gritted her teeth. Then she turned and ran out the front door. She circled around the back of the house. Lucy was running in her direction from the barn. A few of their nearer neighbors rode in, having been alerted by the smoke that was steadily billowing from what was left of their home.

Cilla nodded at them, grateful they had come.

“The animals are okay!” Lucy called as she neared Cilla, her hands full of buckets of water. Miguel and Carmen were close behind her. “Miguel let Brynne’s horse and the goats loose in the pen. But the cattle are gone.”

“What do you mean they’re gone? They should be in the pasture below the barn, away from the fire. They couldn’t have gotten out even if they had wanted to and they wouldn’t have run unless their tails were on fire. They weren’t anywhere near close enough to the fire for that.”

“I don’t know. Part of the fence is down. Maybe they trampled it. Either way, they are out. A few are straggling around, but the rest are just…gone.”

At once, Cilla knew who had done this. Cows didn’t just wander off by themselves, especially not when it was feeding time, even if there was a fire nearby. But she had no time for fury now.

“Where’s Brynne?” Lucy asked.

Cilla ignored the question, pushing Lucy toward the well. “Start hauling water! Maybe we can still save part of the house.”

Cilla knew it was hopeless at this point, but it would give her sister a task. She scanned the yard, looking for any sign of Brynne.

“Cilla!” Lucy’s shriek had Cilla running before the last syllable of her name faded from the air.

On the other side of the well, Brynne lay on the ground, her face blackened with smoke. Cilla dropped to the ground, pressing her ear to her sister’s chest.

“She’s alive.”

Lucy swiped at the tears running down her face.

“Here, mija,” Carmen said, kneeling beside Cilla with a brimming drinking dipper from the well. She tried to pour some in Brynne’s mouth, but it trickled uselessly down her chin.

“Lucy, get some more water,” Cilla said, pulling a handkerchief from Brynne’s apron pocket. The second Lucy set the sloshing bucket next to her Cilla plunged the fabric into the bucket and with it wiped the soot from Brynne’s face. The shock of the cold water brought Brynne’s eyes open with a gasp. She coughed.

Carmen offered the dipper again. Brynne drank, swallowing dipperful after dipperful.

A loud crack thundered through the air. The roof over the kitchen caved in. Cilla jumped to her feet. “Leo!”

The sound of shattering glass echoed through the dense smoke.

“Wait!” Lucy cried, grabbing Cilla’s arm before she could run back into the house. Lucy pointed to the bedroom window at the far end of the house. Leo was hanging out, looking toward them. Cilla ran to stand beneath the window.

“We found her!” she shouted up.

Leo waved and ducked back inside. Cilla squeaked in surprise and jumped out of the way as a flurry of clothing rained down on her. Leo was chucking everything he could get his hands on out the window. Dresses, trousers, coats, boots, a framed picture, her mama’s jewelry box. Cilla and Lucy scampered beneath the window, a few of the neighbors helping, scooping up whatever he threw out and hauling it off to safety.

Another loud crack rippled through the air. Cilla cupped her hands around her mouth. “Leo!” she yelled as loud as she could but couldn’t pull enough air into her lungs. “Leo, get out of there!”

He didn’t reappear at the window. Instead, the end of the feathered bed from her parents’ room appeared. Cilla ran to get out of the way. Leo shoved it through the window, ducked back inside, and then heaved out an armload of blankets and pillows.

“What on earth is he doing?” Lucy asked.

Leo swung his leg over the edge of the windowsill.

“Jumping,” Cilla replied. She hurried to lay out the mattress and blankets as best she could beneath the window. Leo landed on the pile with a grunt. He lay motionless for a second and Cilla leaned over him.

“Break anything?”

He cracked an eye open and looked at her. “Not yet.”

Cilla almost smiled, until she looked back up at the house. One half of the house was entirely engulfed and flames were quickly spreading to the rest of the structure.

Leo hauled himself to his feet and picked up one end of the mattress. “Let’s get as much as we can into the barn, away from the house.”

Cilla looked at him, unable to speak past the lump lodged in her throat. There was no saving her home.

A drop fell on her face. And another. Cilla reached up and brushed at her cheeks, surprised when her fingers met cold wetness instead of the heat of her tears. She looked into the sky.

With the air filled with smoke, she hadn’t noticed the rain clouds settling overhead. They opened their swollen depths, pouring fat drops of rain on the burning house. Lucy jumped up and down, laughing and cheering. She crouched by Brynne, hugging her. A small portion of Cilla’s despair eased. But she knew that even if the rain doused the fire now, a lot of the house had already been destroyed. And the cattle were gone.

Still, she thought, looking at Leo. One must be grateful for one’s blessings. They’d get the cattle back. And one way or another, they’d make Frank pay.

Chapter Ten

Most of their neighbors and several of the townspeople had shown up to help. The women were helping the girls wash out the linens and clothing they’d managed to save, and clean up the few items of furniture that had survived. Part of the house had survived, but the rest would need to be completely rebuilt. Luckily, Miguel and Carmen’s cottage hadn’t been touched, and neither had the old bunkhouse. Seeing as how there were no ranch hands at the moment, the girls were setting up in there until the house could be rebuilt. Cilla had no idea when that would be.

She wiped a trembling hand across her brow and went back to shoveling debris. Most of the burned timbers had been hauled away to a scrap pile until they could decide what was salvageable, leaving only the burned rubble and various household items. Cilla pulled out a pot that was now warped and twisted from the heap she was working on. It could still be useful and they didn’t have so much left that they could afford to be picky. She tossed it in the keep pile and looked over to where Leo worked a few feet from her.

He’d removed his shirt, leaving his skin smeared with soot and dirt. His muscles bunched and rippled as he drove his shovel into the pile in front of him and transferred the load into the waiting wheelbarrow. He looked up and caught her gaze.

Cilla hurriedly turned her attention back to her debris pile, embarrassment heating her cheeks to the point of discomfort. She took a quick peek and found Leo still looking at her, a smug and completely male smile on his lips.

She scowled at him and went back to work, but she couldn’t erase the sight of him sweating in the sun. Wasn’t really sure she wanted to. She might not completely trust the man yet, but he sure was a sight for very tired eyes.

A scream shattered her pleasant thoughts and Cilla immediately sought out her sisters. Lucy and Brynne both came running from the direction of the bunkhouse, followed by Carmen and half a dozen of the townswomen. Everyone hurried to what had been a small patio off the kitchen of the burned-out house to find one of their neighbors, Mrs. Williams, kneeling in the rubble, her hands covering her face as her body convulsed with her sobs.

Cilla dropped down next to her and wrapped her arms around the crying woman, but Mrs. Williams jerked from her embrace.

“Mrs. Williams, what’s wrong?”

She didn’t speak, but started feverishly uncovering something in front of her. It took Cilla a second to make sense of what she was seeing. And then a pale flash of skin shone through the debris around it. Cilla could see a hand, a bit of chest. And his face. Cilla stumbled back, her fist pressed against her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. Leo was right behind her, his hands reaching out to steady her.

“Who is it?” he asked quietly.

“I think,” Cilla said, the bile rising to her throat, “I think it is her son. Bobby Williams.”

“From the general store? The one Lucy…”

Cilla just nodded as Lucy’s screams joined Mrs. Williams. Brynne sank to her knees and wrapped her arms around her sister, rocking her back and forth. Some of the men began to clear away the rest of the debris away from the body. He wasn’t burned badly, so he hadn’t died in the fire. Once the rubble had been cleared away, the cause of death became immediately apparent: a stab wound to the heart.

Mrs. Williams was keening, the sounds of her misery hitting Cilla like a fist to the gut. Leo draped his arm over her shoulder and for once she let him shelter her without hesitation. This was a nightmare. Bobby had been a sweet kid. He’d courted Lucy in an overeager puppy dog way, always tripping over his own feet to do whatever he could for her. And he’d kept his eyes and ears open for Blood Blade, always letting the sisters know when someone in town needed help or had a job that needed doing.

Sweet mercy. Was that why he’d been killed? Had Frank found out about Bobby funneling information to Blood Blade? Surely he wouldn’t have done it just because Bobby was sweet on Lucy. Would he? A sense of unease flooded Cilla.

She didn’t have to wait long to be proven right. Frank and his men came thundering into what used to be the courtyard. Someone must have gone to fetch them, but they appeared so quickly they must have already been on their way to the ranch. Not to make sure the sisters were all right, Cilla was sure. But then Frank had to have seen the smoke. He probably just wanted to make sure the property he was after was still there.

Frank dismounted and went straight to the body. Everyone cleared from his path like sheep before a wolf. Frank dragged the town doctor along behind him. When they reached the small group huddled around Bobby’s body, Frank stared down, his nose wrinkling in distaste. Cilla wanted to slam her fist into his insensitive face, but Leo’s grip tightened around her shoulders.

The doctor gave Bobby a cursory exam, but really there was no need. Bobby was dead and there was no doubt as to the cause. The only question that remained was who had done it. Brynne had been the only one in the house at the time. She certainly would have had no reason to hurt Bobby. Miguel and Carmen would have been in their cottage, and again, they had no motive for wanting to harm Bobby. Not that Frank would care about that.

Cilla shivered, the first hint of fear flowing through her blood. She was sure that Frank had had something to do with this. He hadn’t even looked surprised when he’d arrived. Like he’d known what to expect. Since they’d been able to thwart all his other attempts to gain control of the ranch, was he trying to frame them for murder?

Frank turned to address the people who had gathered, watching the scene in horrified silence.

“Good townspeople, it appears we have a murderer in our midst!”

Aside from a few muted murmurs, there was little reaction among the people. Frank seemed disappointed. Cilla wasn’t sure what he’d expected. It was obvious that Bobby had been murdered. He wasn’t telling them anything they didn’t already know.

Frank drew himself up and pressed on. “There is only one person who would commit so dastardly a deed.”

Cilla held her breath, her body running so cold her arms erupted in goose bumps. She knew Frank’s plan now. Brynne and Lucy came to stand beside her. They’d figured it out too.

“Blood Blade is to blame!”

Frank’s voice rang out through the clearing, but again, his declaration passed with hardly a murmur from the people. A few shifted their feet uneasily, glancing at each other, a few quiet whispers. But it was obvious the townspeople were having a hard time believing what Frank was claiming. Blood Blade had never harmed anyone. In fact, he’d helped most of the people who were standing before Frank—many more than once.

But then it happened. First one set of eyes turned toward the sisters. Then a few more. Frank took note. And smiled. They weren’t being accused. But they were suspected associates of Blood Blade. If the bandit had been the one who committed the murder, then the sisters could easily be condemned by association.

“What proof do you have?” Leo’s voice rose above the murmurs and soft sobs.

“Excuse me?” Frank asked. “Are you trying to defend a thieving, murdering bandit?”

“No. I merely asked what proof you have that Blood Blade did this. You can’t possibly know who committed this crime simply by looking at the body for a few seconds.”

Frank glared at Leo, but he couldn’t dismiss him out of hand. The townspeople began whispering in earnest, looking back and forth between Frank and Leo. No one questioned Frank. Ever. It was obvious that the townspeople expected Frank to pull out a gun and deal with him. And it was equally obvious Frank would love to do nothing more.

Leo continued, pressing his advantage. “I’m new to the area, but even I have heard of the notorious Blood Blade. But I’ve never heard of him doing anything violent. A few robberies, but none of his victims have ever been so much as scratched, let alone killed. Why now? And why would he harm Bobby? The boy couldn’t have had much worth stealing.”

Frank raised his voice to be heard above the murmurs of agreement. “Bobby was a known associate of Blood Blade! Maybe he knew too much and Blood Blade killed him to shut him up.”

Mrs. Williams gasped, her tears flowing down her cheeks and Lucy reached out and took her hand. Instead of pushing her away, Mrs. Williams gripped her tight and stood. “My Bobby was a good boy. He never did anything wrong, never did nothing to hurt nobody.”

“You call helping an outlaw not doing anything wrong?” Frank sneered at her.

Whatever ground he might have gained with the townspeople evaporated the second he turned on the bereaved mother of the boy who lay still at her feet.

“My son never did anything but try to help people,” Mrs. Williams insisted. “There ain’t nothing wrong with that. And Blood Blade ain’t never done nothing but help us either. Someone killed my boy. But it weren’t him.”

A few faces in the crowd still looked unconvinced, but most added their agreement to Mrs. Williams. There was just no proof that Blood Blade had done this horrible deed, and unless there was, they weren’t going to believe it.

But Frank wasn’t willing to give up just yet. “Someone did this to your son. You,” he said, rounding on Cilla. “Where were you last night?”

Leo stepped forward, subtly blocking Cilla’s body with his own. “You are going to accuse your own sisters now? When they’ve just lost everything they own in the world?”

“I’m not accusing them,” Frank said, his eyes darting around a crowd that was growing angrier by the minute. “I merely asked her where she was. The boy was killed on their property. And she wasn’t here when the fire started. I just wanna know where she was. It’s simple procedure.”

“How do you know she wasn’t here when the fire started?” Leo pressed.

The whispers grew louder, and Frank grew more agitated.

“She said so,” Frank insisted. “And it’s obvious. Brynne’s clothes are the ones that are all singed and dirty. Yours and Lucy’s are not. And Priscilla seems to have gotten herself injured. So I’ll ask again, where were you three?”

Leo crossed his arms, his face set in hard lines of disbelief and anger. But he gave Frank an answer. “Cilla, Lucy, and I were out before the sun was up, repairing the fence line. Cilla hurt herself on a jagged piece of wood and we bandaged it the best we could until we could get back to the house. We came back when we saw the smoke.”

Before Frank could respond, some of the townspeople turned their backs on him, going back to work on the debris piles. Others moved to help Mrs. Williams. Cilla allowed herself to relax a little. Frank sputtered some nonsense about justice being done, but when it became obvious no one was listening he mounted his horse, shooting Cilla a hate-filled glare before he rode off.

Leo gave Cilla’s shoulder a comforting squeeze and then went to join the small group surrounding Mrs. Williams and poor Bobby. Cilla followed, watching as Leo gently gathered Bobby in his arms and carried him into the bunkhouse.

The anxiety gnawing at Cilla’s insides flared. Frank might have been thwarted, but he wouldn’t give up. Bobby had lost his life, and for what? Had Frank really gotten so desperate that he’d try to frame Blood Blade for murder? And what would he do now that his plan hadn’t worked? Or had it?

While the townspeople might not have been ready to grab their torches and pitchforks just yet, a seed of doubt had certainly been planted. No one else had any reason to want Bobby dead. Cilla doubted people would have trouble believing Frank had done it, but there was no proof. Yet. Though even if there were, few people would be willing to openly accuse him.

So what do we do now?

For the first time in her life, Cilla didn’t have an answer.

Chapter Eleven

Leo pointed to a group of cows grazing a little ways down the hill. “There are a few more.”

Cilla sighed. They’d been rounding up cattle for most of the day and she was exhausted. The dumb beasts had wandered farther from the ranch than she would have thought. Were driven, she corrected herself. The hole in the fence line where the cows had escaped had been deliberately cut, not smashed down by a herd of panicked animals. Even then, someone would have had to drive them out of the pasture. Not the most adventurous creatures, cows would much rather stay close to their food source and shelter than wander far afield.

They were finding far fewer of the animals than they should have been, though. It was looking less like someone had driven them out as a distraction and more like someone had stolen most of the herd. If they couldn’t get them back, life was going to get leaner. The slaughterhouse in Bishop’s Mill was expecting thirty head of cattle next month and if the sisters couldn’t deliver, not only would they miss out on some much-needed income, but the owner of the slaughterhouse would be reluctant to do business with them again.

Cilla went after one of the strays and cursed under her breath when it ran up a small hill. Muttering dire warnings, Cilla followed. But when she made it to the top of the hill, she pulled up short before quickly turning Maynard around. She tied her horse to a tree branch and crept back up the hill on her belly. By the time Leo joined her a few minutes later, Cilla was so fuming mad she was surprised the brush didn’t burst into flames.

“There’s the rest of our herd,” she said.

Leo let a very choice curse slip.

“My sentiments exactly,” Cilla said.

Fifty head of cattle milled around the small valley below, guarded by a few cowboys who had started setting up camp for the night.

“Why would your cattle be out here?”

Cilla scuttled backward until she could stand and march back to her horse. “Because Frank owns a slaughterhouse in Walnut Glen located about seven miles in that direction,” she said, jabbing her finger to the east.

“He’s driving your cattle to the slaughterhouse?”

“Well, he can’t very well keep them at his ranch. They’re branded. It’d be easy enough to prove that they are ours. No-good, yellow-bellied, son of a bi—”

“So,” Leo said, cutting off her tirade before she could really get going, “we need to get them back before Frank’s men can take them to be slaughtered.”

“Right. Let’s go.”

Cilla mounted her horse and rode back to the small group of cattle they’d managed to round up. They needed to get the animals back to the ranch, come up with a plan, and get their cows back before the cattle were driven to Walnut Glen and Frank’s slaughterhouse. And they’d have to make it quick.

“Cilla, it’s getting late. We’ll never get these animals back to the ranch before dark. We need to find a place to camp and get some rest.”

Nothing sounded better, but the thought of spending the night, just the two of them alone, sent an avalanche of butterflies rocketing through her body. Images of the nights she’d spent wrapped in his arms when they had been looking for Jake made her breath hitch in her throat. She’d barely managed to keep from throwing herself at him then. She didn’t know if she’d be strong enough to spend another night at his side.

“I don’t need to rest,” she insisted.

“Well, I do. Hell, woman, you’ve damn near run me off my feet since you bashed me over the head and dragged me into your barn. I could use a few minutes of peace.”

Cilla’s lips twitched despite her determination to remain stoic. She was tired. And it would be too dangerous to try and move the cows in the dark. Still…

Neither of them spoke while they found a spot well enough away and gathered wood for a fire. When it was lit and throwing off heat, Cilla sank down beside Leo and held her hands out to the flames. With the sounds of the cattle softly lowing in their new pasture, the dark night sky bleeding into a lighter purple above them, and a warm fire crackling before them, the night was just about perfect.

And that filled Cilla with an indescribable fear. Threads of happiness were breaking through her carefully built walls, and the last thing in the world Cilla wanted to feel was happiness. Happiness never lasted. And it hurt when it was ripped away.

Leo leaned back on his elbow and looked up at her. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Oh, he would love to know, she was sure. But that wasn’t going to happen. “Nothing.”

He snorted. “Fine. Don’t tell me. But keep it down, would you? You’re thinking so hard it’s like to spook the cattle.”

That startled a laugh out of her. She risked a glance at him, only to find him staring at her. Her eyes immediately darted away and she had to fight not to fidget under his scrutiny.

“You look beautiful in the firelight.”

Cilla sucked in her breath. His soft words were like warm honey, spreading through every inch of her and filling her with golden deliciousness. It was intoxicating. And wrong.

“Only in the firelight, hmm?” Keep it light…

His quiet laugh awakened parts of her she didn’t know existed. In real life, anyway.

“No, not just in the firelight. In the daylight. Moonlight. Lantern light. Candlelight. Torchlight. Oil lampli—”

Cilla reached over and put her hand over his mouth. “All right. I get it. Thanks.”

She could feel his mouth smiling against her palm. His lips brushing against the tender skin there sent a rush of tingling that spread up her arm and into the rest of her body faster than a fire in a corn crib.

She yanked her hand away but Leo caught it, tugged on it to bring her closer, until their faces were inches apart.

His eyes roamed over her features, his breath tickling her face with a curious mixture of heat and ice. His eyes focused on her scar and she turned her face, so used to trying to hide the mark that she barely noticed she’d moved until Leo’s hand grasped her chin.

“Don’t turn away.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You always do. You always sit so your scar is facing away from me. You always turn your face or drape your hair over that side.”

Cilla swallowed, annoyed with the emotion that boiled just beneath the surface of her careful control. She didn’t know what it was about him, but just being near him seemed to strip away all of her defenses.

“I didn’t realize I did that.”

“How did this happen?” he asked, his finger trailing down the ridge of scar tissue bisecting her brow.

It wasn’t something she usually spoke about. But with his eyes staring intently into hers, holding no pity, only a curiosity, the words fell from her mouth before she had time to think about whether or not she’d answer.

“It was just after Papa’s funeral. Papa had made Carmen and Miguel our legal guardians until Brynne came of age. Frank didn’t think that was right. He thought Papa should have left everything to him, including us. Lucy mouthed off to him. It made Frank angry. He went after her with a riding crop. And I got in the way.”

“You got in the way?”

Cilla pulled away from him and stared into the flames. “I put myself in the way. He won’t ever lay a finger on her as long as I’m around.”

Leo didn’t say anything. When Cilla risked a glance, Leo’s face was still, his jaw clenched so tightly she could almost hear his teeth grinding together. When he finally spoke, his voice was grating, deep with emotion. “He’ll never lay a finger on you again.” He stopped and cleared his throat. “On any of you, not as long as I’m around.”

“Leo…”

“How old were you?”

Cilla wasn’t sure she wanted to answer, but Leo focused that intense stare on her and she answered. “Fourteen.”

Leo’s eyes never left her face and Cilla started to squirm under his scrutiny. She turned back to the fire and just let the words come. “Carmen screamed at him and went after him with a broom.” She smiled at the memory of Frank’s howls as Carmen’s makeshift weapon had hit home on his head as she had chased him out the door.

“Frank tried to fight Papa’s will, but he’d thrown his temper tantrum in front of Papa’s lawyer and half the town. Everyone agreed we were better off with Carmen and Miguel, and Papa had tied his will up too tight for Frank to destroy anyway. We all did okay for a while.”

“And when did Blood Blade come along?”

Cilla grabbed a handful of grass, tossing a few blades and twigs into the fire at a time. “About two years after Papa died, things started to get bad. Frank managed to install himself as sheriff after old Sheriff Potter died. People had liked him at first. He was strict, didn’t allow any nonsense in town, was harsh with crime-doers. But then a few of the rowdier boys started harassing the townsfolk. Frank insisted he needed more funds to pay his deputies to keep them in line.”

Cilla took a deep breath, watched it evaporate into the cool air as she exhaled. “The people paid. The harassment got worse. They paid more, until they didn’t have anything left to pay. By the time everyone realized the thugs were in cahoots with Frank, it was too late. They had their hooks into the town too tightly.”

“Couldn’t anyone else help?”

Cilla shrugged. “The nearest judge magistrate is a two-day ride from here. Frank’s men control the post office and the telegraph machine was destroyed in an accidental fire a few months after Frank took over. A lot of people left, but not many people come to this little town anymore. I doubt most people even know we’re here.”

“So there was no one to help.”

“Until Blood Blade came along,” Cilla said with a smile.

Leo frowned. “We started hearing the Blood Blade stories a few years ago. You couldn’t have been more than…”

“I was sixteen when I went on my first raid.”

His frown deepened. “Hardly more than a child.”

“I was old enough to know no one was going to help me so I’d better learn to help myself. We’ve managed okay.”

Leo glowered at the fire for a few minutes, long enough Cilla thought he might be done with their little heart to heart. No such luck.

“And then Jake came.”

Cilla sat straighter. She’d wondered when he’d bring up his brother. He hadn’t talked about him much. At least not with her. Not that there was much any of them could tell him.

“Jake came looking for work and you hired him to help around the ranch?”

Cilla looked at Leo, turning her own version of an intense gaze back on him. Did he really think they didn’t know?

“No. Jake came looking for Blood Blade and we hired him to keep an eye on him.”

Leo’s face paled and his eyebrows arched. “You knew why he was really here?”

Cilla snorted. “Wouldn’t be a very good bandit if I didn’t know when someone was on my trail now, would I?”

“And then Jake disappeared,” Leo said, his voice a low, dangerous whisper.

Cilla wasn’t disturbed, though it was clear there was a question behind his words. It took more than a glare and a low voice to rattle her chains, even if she was less than innocent.

“No,” she said with a little smile. “Then he fell in love with my sister and started riding raids with us.”

“What?”

The look on Leo’s face was priceless.

“Didn’t you know?”

“Of course I didn’t!”

Cilla smiled, enjoying making him squirm for once. “Why is it so surprising to you that Jake would help us? You’re helping us and you haven’t been with us nearly as long as Jake was.”

“Yes, but…it’s different.”

“Why?”

Leo didn’t answer right away. He tipped his head down so his hat blocked her view of his face as he stared into the fire.

“It’s just different.”

Cilla leaned back on her elbows and stared at the fading stars above her. “That’s true enough. You came looking for Blood Blade to get information about your brother, and possibly buy our aid in finding him, so it stands to reason that you might help our merry little band of bandits just to get closer to us and find out whatever we might know. While Jake, on the other hand…”

Leo had gone stone still beside her. She wasn’t even sure he was still breathing. Surprised him again, it seemed.

“You knew why Jake really came out here?” he asked.

Cilla turned to look at him. “Don’t give us much credit, do you?”

Leo had the grace to look a bit sheepish.

“We’re smarter than we look,” Cilla whispered, a small smile playing on her lips.

She’d meant it as a joke, had expected Leo to laugh. Or smile at least. Instead, the lines of his face grew even harder, if that were possible, his eyes glinting coldly in the firelight with a look that Cilla hadn’t seen since the night they’d dragged him into their barn.

“I have no doubt of your intelligence. When did you discover that Jake had come to collect the bounty on your head?”

He didn’t come right out and say it, but the accusation was there. Cilla didn’t need to hear the actual words to understand what Leo was inferring.

“You gutless son of a bitch,” Cilla hissed. Her palm connected with Leo’s face hard enough to make his head snap backward.

She jumped up and was halfway to her horse before he caught up with her. He grabbed her shoulders and spun her around. Cilla could barely see his face through the rage-filled tears filling her eyes.

“How dare you?” she managed to spit out. “You think I figured out that Jake was after us for the bounty and got rid of him? After all you’ve seen, the time we’ve spent together, everything you’ve helped us do, you still think I could do that to the man my sister loves? What kind of monster do you think I am?”

The tears were flowing freely now, to Cilla’s everlasting shame. She wasn’t even sure where they were coming from. She’d known what he’d thought of her. Hell, it amused her most of the time that he thought she was so dangerous. But for some reason, the thought that he would still believe that, after everything, hit her like a fist to the gut.

“Let go of me,” she cried, trying to twist out of his arms.

“Cilla. Calm down! I didn’t mean it, not really.”

“Yes, you did.”

“Can you blame me? The first time I met you, you bashed me over the head with the butt of your gun, and you’ve made it more than clear that you’ll do anything to protect your sisters and your secret.”

“No, I wouldn’t do anything. There are some things even someone as apparently depraved as I wouldn’t do.”

“Cilla—”

“I knew what Jake had come for the second he showed up at the ranch. But despite what you believe, killing innocent men isn’t a big pastime of mine. We hired him to keep an eye on what he was doing. Then he went snooping around just like you did and found out what we were really up to. He came clean, even though we already knew what he was. Said he wanted to stay and help.”

Cilla calmed a bit, sorrow filling her weary soul. “Things were better for a while. Brynne was so happy. And it was nice to have the help. He and Brynne wanted to marry but Frank was causing a big ruckus about it, saying Brynne was underage and so couldn’t get married without his permission. Even though Carmen and Miguel are our guardians.

“He made a big-enough fuss that they just upped and eloped. Left one night and came back a week later looking as pleased as the cat when he gets in the cream. We didn’t find out until a few weeks after they were back that it wasn’t a legal marriage. They planned on having Reverend Mitchum do another ceremony, though. But then one day, Jake rode off and never came back. Brynne was heartbroken. She still cries when she thinks no one can hear. Do you really believe I’d do that to my own sister?”

Leo’s arms tightened around her. “Cilla.”

“No,” she said, determined not to let his strong arms and handsome face break through her defenses again. This is what happened when you let your guard down. Some big jerk came and tried to destroy you. Every time. He could go jump in a frozen lake and get iced over for all she cared. She wasn’t going to let him get to her again.

“Cilla, stop!” he demanded when she writhed in his arms again. “Stop,” he whispered, bringing one hand up to tangle in her hair as he brought her face up to his and rested his forehead against her. “Stop.”

She did. She didn’t mean to. But she was so tired. Tired of fighting against everything—the whole world, it seemed sometimes. And especially her feelings for the man whose arms were wrapped around her.

This time when his lips descended, Cilla didn’t turn away. She rose up to meet him, molding herself to him with a passion that surprised them both. She wanted just one moment. One moment when she didn’t have to think, didn’t have to fight. She just wanted to forget everything and feel.

Feel Leo’s lips against her own. Feel his heart pounding in time with hers. Feel his hands as they encircled her, pressing her closer. Cilla wanted nothing more than to get lost in him. Nothing else mattered. Not at this moment.

Leo picked Cilla up and carried her to his bedroll, stretching down beside her next to the warmth of the fire. He leaned on his arm, gazing down at her as the flames danced across their features. He traced his finger over her scar again, only this time she didn’t turn away. His lips followed a second later, moving across the ridge of her scar, down her cheek, and back to her yearning mouth.

Cilla pressed herself to him, wrapping her leg around his hip as he rolled, pulling her half across him. Leo’s lips moved to her neck and Cilla gasped, her head swimming as she drowned in a sea of sensation she hadn’t known existed.

What had Leo done to her? He’d come into her life and turned everything upside down. He was dangerous, this man who was awakening a riot of emotions within her as his hands and lips moved expertly over her body. She felt out of control around him.

His hands slipped beneath the fabric of her shirt and trailed up her back, and Cilla’s last coherent thought was that she was glad she hadn’t put on her long johns that morning. Now there was nothing to get in the way of Leo’s fingers as they moved across her skin, igniting a trail of fire everywhere he touched.

Cilla sucked in a ragged breath, shifting so he could reach the buttons of her shirt easier. The cold air that hit her skin was chased away by the heat of Leo’s lips as he kissed down the column of her neck. Cilla wished she could freeze time, stay in this moment forever. Leave the world behind and disappear with him. Forget about everything else.

Spend the rest of her life wrapped up in the sensations and emotions this man was awakening in her.

A man she had no right to.

The stray thought that floated into her consciousness was like a bucket of ice-cold water dumped on her head.

Whether Leo and Brynne accepted it or not, until Jake was brought back safe and sound, Leo was spoken for. He had no business holding Cilla. No business running his hands down her back as he whispered soothing nonsense in her ear. No business trailing his lips across the body that ached for him.

Cilla pushed away from him. “No,” she whispered. “I can’t. We can’t. I—I’m sorry.”

She jumped up and ran to her horse. She mounted and spurred Maynard into a gallop. But she’d never be able to ride hard or fast enough to get away from the man who had wormed his way into a heart that, for better or worse, now belonged to him.

Cilla would have liked to have ridden to the border and kept on going, but she couldn’t abandon her sisters, no matter what foolish mess she’d allowed herself to get into with Leo. And she couldn’t leave him to try and get the cattle back to the ranch alone.

She rode just far enough away that she could no longer see the fire. Then she leaned forward and wrapped her arms about Maynard’s neck, sucking in lungful after lungful of air until the lump that had formed in her throat dissipated, taking with it its weakening display of tears. The horse waited patiently while she pulled herself together, blowing soft puffs of air through his nose every now and then.

Shame slithered through her, that she had let herself get so swept up in the moment that she had forgotten everything else. But she couldn’t quite regret it. She’d known it couldn’t last, but at least she’d had a brief moment with him. One that she had not allowed to get too far. One that could never happen again. One that would probably haunt her dreams for the rest of her life. But one that she’d treasure in the secret corner of her heart that no one else knew about.

She waited until Maynard started pawing impatiently at the ground and her hands had cramped from gripping the reins in her fists. Then she turned him around and went back to the camp.

Leo was pacing back and forth by the fire, the tension in his face fading to relief when she rode in. He took a deep breath and slowly blew it out but made no move to come closer to her. Cilla took her bedroll and wordlessly stretched out on the opposite side of the fire. Leo watched her, his jaw clenched. Still, he did not speak to her and for that Cilla was grateful.

Cilla lay down and turned her back to him, cursing the silent tears that slid down her cheeks. After a few moments, she heard Leo settle down on his own bedroll. And then all was silent.

The moment Cilla walked through the door, all activity in the kitchen stopped. Lucy looked up from her breakfast, her spoon suspended halfway to her mouth. Brynne paused in the middle of moving a hot pan from the oven to the counter. Cilla eyed her sisters, waiting for one of them to make a smart comment. The three remained frozen, staring at each other, until Brynne gasped and hurriedly transferred the pan that had burned its way through her apron onto the countertop.

“So,” she said, giving Cilla a smile.

Cilla returned her sister’s smile with a glare. She wasn’t in the mood. She’d gotten the cattle home as quickly and efficiently as she could while doing her best to ignore Leo. Who’d apparently known better than to try to speak to her. That had disappointed her in so many ways she couldn’t stand herself, but she couldn’t escape from the thoughts running rampant in her head.

Cilla knew damned well what was going through Brynne’s head as well, but she had no intention of justifying it with any sort of a response. “Did you two have any problems last night while we were gone? How did things go?”

“Not as good as they seem to have gone with you,” Lucy piped in.

Cilla rounded on her with an infuriated gasp, spinning around to face Brynne again when she laughed.

“Come now,” Brynne said. “What do you expect us to think? You spent all night out with a handsome man, surely you can see how we might—”

“I see no such thing! He might be…some might think he’s…” Cilla couldn’t seem to get the next words out of her mouth, which just set off Brynne’s laughter again. “Nothing happened! He’s a married man! Married to you, Brynne, in case you’d forgotten.”

That drained Brynne of all amusement and Cilla was instantly sorry.

“We aren’t really married.”

“You are, Brynne. And if Jake doesn’t come back…”

“He will come back.”

“If he doesn’t,” Cilla insisted, “then Leo really will be your husband.” Brynne started to protest again, but Cilla cut her off. “And you’ll need him. You both will.” She gestured to Brynne’s burgeoning belly.

Brynne stared at her for a moment, her chest heaving with pent-up emotion. But rather than give Cilla the tongue-lashing she deserved, Brynne spun on her heels and marched out of the room.

“Cilla, that wasn’t necessary,” Lucy said.

“Yes, it was.” Cilla didn’t point out she had been reminding herself as much as Brynne that Leo was technically spoken for. It was something they both needed to keep in mind. If Jake did return…well, they could cross that bridge when they came to it.

She refused to give in to the hope that had started to grow in her heart. She refused to think for even one second that she might get to keep him. Because it would just hurt too damned much if…

“It’s not fair, is it?” Lucy asked, her voice devoid of its usual merriment.

“Fair?” Cilla frowned. “What’s not fair?”

“To fall in love with someone, only to lose him.”

Cilla started to argue, insist that she didn’t love Leo. But Lucy’s lower lip quivered, her eyes filling with tears, and Cilla realized that Lucy wasn’t really talking about Cilla and Leo…or at least, she wasn’t only talking about them.

Cilla looked at her little sister, really looked at her, for the first time in days and was shocked. Lucy’s normally rosy face was drawn and pale. She’d barely touched the food on the plate in front of her and the dark circles under her eyes betrayed the fact she hadn’t been sleeping. Probably hadn’t gotten one good night’s sleep since…since Bobby had been found.

Cilla sat down and pulled her sister into her arms, guilt flowing through her. She’d been so wrapped up in the ranch and the cattle and…and Leo that she hadn’t noticed how hard Lucy was taking Bobby’s death.

Cilla held her sister while Lucy cried, her sobs wracking a body that felt far too thin. With every tear that fell from Lucy’s eyes, Cilla’s anger toward Frank grew. Someday she would make him pay for every ounce of pain he’d caused their family. Cilla didn’t know how or when, but if there was any justice in the world, Frank would get what was coming to him.

A shadow crossed the door and Cilla looked up and met Leo’s gaze. He stared at her for a moment, a world of emotion in his eyes. Then he bowed his head and left.

“No,” Cilla said, “it’s not fair.”

She stroked Lucy’s hair like she used to when Lucy was little, and let her sister cry for them both.

Chapter Twelve

Cilla planted her hands on her hips and glared at Brynne. “You aren’t going anywhere.”

Leo stood with Lucy, trying to keep out of the line of fire. Lucy leaned over and hissed in his ear, “This is all your fault, you know.”

“Shh.” He gave her a glare, trying his best to ignore the twinge of guilt running through his gullet.

The fight was his fault, though he hadn’t meant to start it. He had a plan to get their cattle back, but it would take all of them. He knew Cilla wouldn’t want Brynne to be involved. To be honest, he hated the idea as well. But her part in the raid would be relatively safe, and they couldn’t do it without her. Plus, it would help keep Lucy from the most dangerous part of it all.

He’d prepared for Cilla’s disapproval. Still, he hadn’t expected his suggestion would cause such a ruckus. It was like watching two dogs fight over the last bone. You knew it wasn’t going to end well, but you couldn’t help watching.

Brynne pressed one hand on the scorched table they’d managed to salvage from the undamaged part of the house, leaning closer to Cilla while keeping the piece of furniture between them.

Smart, Leo thought.

“You may have been taking care of things more since Jake’s been gone, but I’m still the oldest. No one, especially my younger sister, is going to tell me what I can and can’t do!”

“That’s rich. I’m out riding raids, taking care of things around here, minding Lucy, getting shot for cryin’ out loud, and doing a million other things, and you think you can still pull the ‘I’m older’ bit? I’m not a baby!”

“That’s what you’re acting like! A baby who doesn’t know what’s good for her. You think you can steal back a herd of cattle back all by yourself? I’d like to see you try!”

“Sit back and watch me, then.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“It’s what you said.”

“Dammit, Cilla, you can’t do everything by yourself. Leo’s right. You can’t just go bursting in there and take the cattle back. The safest way to get it done is if we create a distraction to draw Frank’s watchdogs away from the herd. Then you two can go in with Carmen and Miguel and get them out. By the time the idiots realize what’s going on you’ll have the cattle well on the way home. Lucy and I won’t be in any danger. They won’t even see us.”

Cilla turned her furious gaze to Leo. He held up his hands and stepped back. Cilla, her face redder than a cherry pie, aimed her attention back at Brynne, and Leo released a pent-up breath.

“No. I don’t want you and Lucy going anywhere! Carmen and Miguel can draw the men away while I lead the herd. I won’t have Lucy in danger, and look at you! No offense, sister dear, but you are the size of a house. Your plan is too risky.”

“Offense taken! I still have two months before this baby comes, and I seriously doubt it’s going to take that long to distract a few idiots. And my plan is much better than you trying to swoop in alone to steal an entire herd of cattle out from under their noses. You can’t do it by yourself!”

“What you seem to be forgetting is that I’ve already been taking care of everything myself. I’ve been the one out there risking my neck. I’ve been making the plans and dealing with Frank and making sure everything around here runs as smoothly as possible because you’ve been too busy moping around to help me!”

Cilla snapped her mouth shut but the words were already out. Brynne stood straight, her beautiful face pale as the calico dress she wore. One hand hovered near her belly.

“Brynne, I didn’t mean—”

“You did,” Brynne said, her voice quiet and cold. The silence spread through the room, so thick Leo could hardly breathe. The sisters just stood and stared at one another, their faces mirrors of pain and exhaustion.

Finally, Brynne sighed. She slumped into a chair and propped her head on her hand. “You’re right. I have been moping. I’ve let you handle more than you should.”

“Brynne, you have every right to—”

“No, I don’t. You’re my little sister. You do too much. For crying out loud, Cilla, listen to you. You chastise me like Mama used to. You’re too young to be acting so old.”

Cilla gave her a sad smile. “So are you.”

Brynne shook her head. “It stops now. Jake’s gone. He’s been gone so long now, I—” Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat. “I know you don’t think I can do this. I know you’re worried for me. But I’ll be fine. I can ride a horse and that’s about all this job entails. I’m not saying it’ll be comfortable,” she said, smiling a little, “but I can do it.”

“Brynne…” Cilla started to protest again, but Leo stepped forward.

Cilla looked at him, her hazel eyes boring into his. He wanted to reach out and trace the scar running down her forehead, smooth the frown from her face. Instead, he clenched his hands into fists. “She can do this, Cilla. And once they get Jackson, Jed, and the rest of Frank’s goons out of the way, they can hightail it back home and barricade the doors.”

Cilla looked as though she wanted to argue some more, but Lucy stepped forward. “I can do most of the work, Cilla. Brynne won’t have to do much. We can do this.”

Brynne stood. “I’m not asking you, Cilla. I’m telling you. So I suggest you get used to the idea. We leave in three hours.” She turned and left the room, Lucy following.

Cilla slumped in a chair and let her head fall onto the table with a quiet thump. Leo stood behind her. She was like a skittish horse. He was afraid if he made any sudden movements he’d spook her and she’d be off. Or worse, she’d kick out and injure some vital part of his anatomy. Finally, he pulled up a chair and sat beside her.

“I can’t lose them.” She twisted her head to look at him but didn’t raise it from the table. “I can’t lose them,” she said again.

“You won’t.”

“A bunch of cattle aren’t worth their lives. We should just let it go.”

Leo frowned. “Since when do you not want to fight?” he asked, his voice gentle.

“Maybe I’m tired of fighting, Leo. I’m just…tired. Of everything. And if I lose them, then what was the point?”

He leaned forward, brushed a lock of hair back from her face. “You won’t lose them. I will do everything in my power to keep all of you safe.”

Cilla’s brow furrowed. “Why? Why are you helping us? It can’t just be because we promised to look for Jake, because we were doing that anyway. Why are you still here?”

Leo didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure he wanted to examine his feelings too closely. Not yet, anyway. He asked his own questions instead.

“Why do you do it? Fight against Frank? Risk your lives for the townsfolk? Why not just pack up and leave?”

Cilla shook her head and sat up. “What would happen to the people we help? We can’t leave them to Frank’s mercy.”

“They aren’t your responsibility.”

“If we don’t help them, who will?”

Leo smiled. “Exactly.”

Cilla frowned again and Leo reached out and trailed his thumb across her furrowed forehead, traced the scar. “If I don’t help you, who will?”

Cilla took his hand from her face, held it in her own.

“Do we need the cattle?” he asked. He knew they did. The animals brought in revenue, both for the sisters and the townspeople they helped. But Cilla needed reminding of that, a reminder of what was at stake. And even in the short time he’d known her, he knew she’d be more amenable to the situation if she came to her own conclusions.

She sighed. “Yes. We do.”

“Then let’s go steal us some cattle.”

Cilla gave him a faint smile, but didn’t release his hand. “Brynne and Lucy…”

“They will be fine, Cilla,” he said, squeezing her hand. “We’ll be the ones in danger. They just have to distract a few dumb men into away.”

Cilla snorted. “We’ll be dealing with a few dumb beasts of our own.”

Leo laughed and stood, pulling Cilla with him. “Let’s get to it.” He leaned down and gave her a quick kiss.

Brynne came back into the room. Her eyes flicked to Cilla and Leo’s still joined hands, and Cilla quickly let go. A smile tugged at Brynne’s lips, but she didn’t say anything.

“Everything settled?” she asked.

Cilla and Leo nodded.

“All right.” Brynne tossed Cilla her hat. “Let’s go get our cattle.”

…

Cilla, Leo, and Miguel sat in the dark, just inside a copse of trees nearest the pen where the Richardson cattle were corralled. Carmen had been delegated to stay behind and keep an eye on the ranch. Cilla wanted someone at the house in case Brynne or Lucy needed help when they returned. Or God forbid, needed medical attention. She sent up a quick prayer that all would go according to plan.

Maynard pranced nervously. She tried to calm him, but the horse was echoing her own tension. Only four men were guarding the cattle. Cilla wasn’t sure if she should be offended by that or not. On the one hand, Frank felt sufficiently threatened that he put guards on cattle. On the other hand, he only had four men keeping watch, and they didn’t look like the sharpest tools in the shed.

The plan was simple enough. As soon as Brynne and Lucy created a distraction, Leo and Cilla would release the cattle from their pen and herd them up into the northern pasture, which was a nice spot tucked up the mountain, close enough to keep an eye on but far enough away that it would be a nuisance for Frank to come after them again.

Not that he’d have the opportunity. Cilla doubted the theft of the cattle had been the reason behind the fire at the ranch. Rather, Frank had seen another way to make their lives miserable and had decided to jump on it. She couldn’t imagine even he’d be dumb enough to purposely go after their livestock. No one would stand for such brazen rustling, no matter how powerful he was.

Still, Cilla would be glad when this was over. She didn’t like Brynne and Lucy being out there. If they were caught…Cilla shuddered, refusing to think of it.

“There,” Leo whispered. He gestured.

Cilla looked to where he pointed at a spark of fire arcing in the sky, quickly followed by another.

“Get ready,” Cilla whispered back.

The flaming arrows landed in one of the corn cribs and ignited. Two more arrows flew through the air, striking the hay shed on the other side of the slaughterhouse. Within minutes, twin fires were blazing and men were scattering, splitting to battle the flames.

The men guarding the cattle ran back and forth, not sure if they should help with the blazing infernos or if they should stay with the cattle they were charged with guarding. Finally, two of them ran off, leaving two behind. Cilla glanced at Leo and nodded at the thug on the right. Leo kicked his horse into action. Cilla rode out in the opposite direction while Miguel headed straight for the pen’s gates.

The men didn’t know what hit them. By the time they’d registered that horses were barreling toward them in the dark, they were on the ground, lumps forming on their heads.

Cilla began swatting at the rumps of the cattle in the back while Leo and Miguel led those already free of their pen. Within moments, the herd was on the move. Unfortunately, their cattle had been mixed in with some of Frank’s herd, though by the size of the crowd, it didn’t seem to be many. They had a contingency plan in place for that, though. They wouldn’t give Frank the satisfaction of branding them as cattle thieves. All it would take would be one animal with his brand to be found in their pastures and he’d have them. So they’d make sure only their own animals made it home.

But they’d have to get the animals away from the ranch before they could separate them. It was too risky to do it on site.

A shout rang out across the yard and sent a bolt of fear straight into Cilla’s heart. Two men peeled off from the darkness and headed straight toward Miguel and Leo.

Cilla tried to make her way to them without getting trampled by the spooked cattle that swarmed around her. Her warning cry was cut short as a third man she hadn’t seen came out of nowhere. A big, meaty fist slammed into her jaw and nearly knocked her from her mount. She managed to hang on, but just barely.

She touched the gun at her waist, but didn’t pull it. The last thing she wanted to do was fire a weapon in the midst of the already startled cattle. If it didn’t cause a stampede, it would certainly alert the men battling the fire that something was going on.

Instead, she grasped her riding crop and when the man came at her again, she swung that stick like a mama bear swatting at a beehive. Cilla wasn’t sure where it struck, but it hit hard enough to make her arm numb clear to the shoulder. The man howled and toppled from his horse.

Cilla could vaguely make out the outlines of the other men on their horses across the herd. She needed to get the animals under control before they hurt themselves, or the riders being swept along with them. It took a few minutes, but she managed to start herding the cattle in the right direction. She kept an eye out for more of Frank’s men and when a shadowed rider barreled up to her, she swung her riding crop again, figuring it was better to strike first than be sorry later.

“Whoa, there!” Leo said, catching her arm before she could bring the crop down on his head.

“Sorry!”

“You okay?”

“Yes. Miguel?”

“He’s fine. Let’s get these animals moved out before the rest of them find out what we are up to.”

Cilla couldn’t agree more. They split up and drove the herd away from Frank’s burning outbuildings as fast as they could get the lumbering beasts to move.

An hour later, they had reached their rendezvous point. Miguel lit the torch that they had in wait while Leo and Cilla began to drive the cattle one at a time through the narrow gap they’d made in the fence. They checked the brand on each animal, singling out the ones with Frank’s mark. As she suspected, he’d mixed a few of his own animals in with their herd. A dozen, when all was said and done. They left Frank’s cattle to wander. They’d either find their way back to their barn or Frank’s men would round them up. Either way, Cilla couldn’t be accused of stealing them.

Cilla nudged Maynard through the gap in the fence, Miguel close behind.

They led the cattle slowly through the countryside. It was dangerous taking them at night, but they had to get them far enough away that anyone pursuing them wouldn’t immediately find them. Easier said than done when leading a group of slow-moving, stubborn animals.

They stopped after several hours and took turns keeping watch. Cilla took care to stay as far from Leo as she could. She volunteered for the first shift and ended up staying awake through the second as well, deciding to keep Miguel company rather than sleep near the fire…and Leo. She only lay down to rest when it was Leo’s turn to keep watch over the herd.

After a miserable night, Cilla, Miguel, and Leo returned home, cattle in tow. Once there, Cilla ignored Brynne’s concern and Lucy’s questions. She went straight to her bed and slept clear through the next day.

For once, her sleep was deep and dreamless.

Chapter Thirteen

Frank had been uncharacteristically quiet. And it was making Cilla anxious. Waiting for him to make his move was making everyone irritable. Like they needed any more reason to be tiptoeing around each other.

Cilla went out of her way to make sure she and Leo were never alone, which was proving quite the feat since Brynne and Lucy seemed equally determined to toss them together whenever possible. If they came up with one more task that the two of them just had to perform together, Cilla was going to scream.

They hadn’t spoken again of what had happened that night in the field. They’d spent a few tense days avoiding each other’s gazes, but by the time the bruise on Leo’s jaw had turned a lovely shade of yellow, he was back to trying to get Cilla to spill every private thought she’d ever had. The man was like a locust, absolutely determined to devour her whole if she let him. And she was equally determined he’d never get that close to her again.

Unfortunately, her own mind and body were just as traitorous as her sisters. Cilla found her thoughts focused on Leo to an uncomfortable degree, her gaze following him wherever he went. Whenever one of them entered a room, their eyes inevitably searched for one another until they locked with an intensity that made her knees weak.

Cilla didn’t know how much more she could take. Something was building between them and she very much feared another explosion was on the horizon, one she might not be able to contain. And then they’d be fixed, for sure.

Luckily, there was plenty of good hard labor that needed doing around the ranch. Her only salvation came from working herself into a state of exhaustion so complete she collapsed into her bed every night, too tuckered out to even dream.

The sight of horses riding into the courtyard pulled her from her thoughts.

Frank! What was that bastard doing here?

Cilla dropped her rake and sprinted for the courtyard, reaching it just as Brynne came out on the porch, wiping her hands on the apron spread across her enormous belly.

Lucy and Leo came out of the barn where they’d been repairing a stall door that Maynard had kicked through. Cilla sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Leo was there as he took up a protective stance next to Brynne. Cilla flanked Brynne’s other side, while Miguel and Carmen hovered near Lucy.

Frank dismounted and strode to the trio on the porch.

“Frank,” Brynne said, positioning her body so it effectively barred the doorway. “What do you want?”

The sneer spreading across his face filled Cilla with revulsion, but she kept her mouth closed. For the moment.

“I need the three of you to come down to my office.”

“Why on earth would we do that?” Cilla asked, her tenuous hold on her good behavior slipping.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll arrest you for obstructing my investigation.”

“Into what?” Leo demanded, stepping slightly in front of Brynne.

“The murder of the Hudner family from the Ridge.”

Lucy gasped and darted forward. “What do you mean, murder? They’re dead? All of them?”

“Yes,” Frank said, his gaze roaming over each of the sisters. His lips pulled into a grin as if he were delivering good news rather than relaying the horrific details that spilled from his mouth. “Their throats were slit. All of them, even the baby’s.”

“That’s a tragedy, to be sure,” Leo said. His voice was thick with emotion, though his face showed no sign of it. “But what does that have to do with my wife and her sisters?”

“We have good reason to believe that these heinous murders were committed by the notorious Blood Blade. And since my ill-advised sisters are rumored to be known associates of his…”

Lucy moved to lunge at Frank, but Cilla grabbed her arm just in time. “Blood Blade would never do such a thing!”

“And you have no proof that your sisters are associates of his, Frank. You said yourself they are only rumored to be. Even if they were, they had nothing to do with this.”

“It would be nice if I could just take your word, wouldn’t it? But it wouldn’t be fair to those poor souls who were robbed of their lives if I turned a blind eye to the evidence just because you are my sisters.”

“What evidence?” Leo and Cilla demanded in unison.

“We’ll discuss it at my office. Now let’s go.”

“No,” Leo said, stepping in front of Brynne and grasping Cilla’s arm to pull her behind him as well. Cilla yanked herself from his grip but didn’t do anything rash. They hadn’t been back to the Ridge since the night they’d delivered the money pouch. What could Frank possibly have on them?

Unfortunately, there was only one way to find out.

“All right, Frank,” she said, stepping out from behind Leo. “I’ll go into town with you. There isn’t any need for Lucy or Brynne to come along. Brynne is in no condition to be traveling anywhere and Lucy is too young to be involved in anything.”

Frank thought it over for a moment, his beady eyes darting between the sisters. Finally, he nodded. “All right. You’ll do for now.”

“No!” Leo grabbed her arm again, preventing her from following Frank off the porch.

“There’s no harm in letting him ask me a few questions. I have nothing to hide.” Cilla tried to pull her arm from Leo’s grasp, but he held tight.

“If you are going, then I’m coming with you,” he insisted.

Cilla was going to argue but before she could say a word, Brynne piped in. “Thank you, Leo. I’ll feel much better if you accompany her.”

Frank didn’t look pleased, but he had no good reason to argue. The fact that Leo’s presence disgruntled Frank dried up any further arguments Cilla had been about to make. Anything that busted Frank’s britches was fine by her.

“Let’s get this over with.”

Frank waited until Cilla and Leo were mounted before giving Brynne and Lucy a mocking tip of his hat and mounting his own horse to follow his party out of the courtyard.

A grueling two hours later, Leo and Cilla left the sheriff’s office and remounted their horses to head back to the ranch. Frank had nothing on them, or Blood Blade, rather. Nothing concrete, in any case. He did have a witness who had seen someone riding away from the cabin. And the flowers that had been left at the well, though, of course Frank made no mention of the money. But even Frank knew he didn’t have a case.

But it seemed as if he didn’t need to. As Cilla walked out of the sheriff’s office, she felt the eyes of the townspeople on her, boring into her. Confused, some accusing, some wary. Frank had sown the seeds. False or not, his accusations had done their damage.

The townspeople watched them as they left. They were subdued, but for the most part, not overtly unfriendly. Perhaps Frank’s plan would come to nothing. After all, Blood Blade had never been violent and had helped the majority of those whose eyes followed them on their way out of town. But no one spoke out to support them as they had when Bobby had been found.

Still, no one was calling for their blood just yet. Their eyes were afraid, full of sorrow and anger, though Cilla didn’t think it was directed at them. Yet. Hopefully, the townspeople were still on Blood Blade’s side. For now.

But how long would that last if more people died, if more murders were placed at Blood Blade’s door? That poor family. The thought of the horror that had happened to them destroyed a piece of her. The fact that Frank was trying to pin it on Blood Blade was terrifying.

“He did it, didn’t he?” Cilla asked Leo, her voice so quiet and restrained she almost didn’t recognize it. “In order to frame Blood Blade, he killed those poor people. Even the children.”

Leo didn’t answer for a moment, and when he did, his voice was even more muted than her own. “Yes, I think he probably did.”

“Then it’s my fault.”

“No!” Leo reached over and grabbed her reins, pulling both their horses to a halt. “Frank is a murderous, greedy, insane son of a bitch. And his actions have nothing to do with you.”

“But they do,” she said quietly, emotions choking in her throat. She pulled her reins away from him and nudged her horse on.

Leo drew alongside her. He didn’t speak again, merely rode in silence by her side, lending her his presence and strength. She was grateful he was there. More than he’d ever realize. More than she could ever tell him. At that moment, she didn’t think she could have gone on if he hadn’t been with her.

No matter what he said, she knew it was her fault that family had been killed. Frank wanted Blood Blade. And he was apparently ready to do anything to get to him…and to them.

Who would be next?

Frank had to be stopped.

Chapter Fourteen

Most of the debris from the damaged part of the house had been cleared and they were ready to rebuild. Leo had suggested expanding the house since they were rebuilding anyway, and with the baby on the way, it seemed like a good idea. But it would require more clearing. The original house had been built with its back facing a small grove of trees, and several of the trees would need to be removed before they could expand the foundation.

Leo enlisted the help of several of the townsmen, taking care to include those that Blood Blade had helped the most. He didn’t think it would hurt to remind them where their aid had originated. The sisters had risked their lives in order to help these people, and Leo would be damned if he’d let Frank turn their neighbors against them.

It seemed to be working. The occasion had turned almost festive, with the women whipping up enormous amounts of food for the men who were hauling the trees. Leo, Cilla, and Miguel had spent the previous week cutting down the trees they needed to be moved, and now the townsmen were forming around the trunks. They’d already pulled four from the ground. One more and they’d be done.

The women cheered as the men wrapped the tree trunks with rope, attaching them to the horses’ harnesses.

“One! Two!”

Leo got ready to spur the horse forward.

“Three!”

He slapped the horse’s rump and it jumped forward, pulling against the trunk buried in the ground.

“Come on, boy!” he shouted, encouraging the straining animal. It lurched forward again and again, each time budging the trunk a little more.

“One more!” Cilla called out, a smile stretching from ear to ear.

Leo nearly forgot what he was supposed to be doing. He’d never seen her smile so happily, her eyes dancing with merriment. She’d never looked so…carefree. A thread of sorrow tangled with the happiness flowing through him and he renewed his determination to find Jake and get Frank out of their lives for good, so he could spend the rest of his life making sure that happy, carefree expression never left Cilla’s face again.

He’d barely admitted to himself how he felt about her. But seeing her laughing with her sisters…Leo couldn’t deny it anymore. He was head over heels in love with the crazy girl.

She looked right at him, pinning him with that dazzling smile. His lips sprang into an answering grin.

“Yah!” he encouraged the horse who gave one, last heroic pull. The trunk’s roots peeled from the ground and the horse gained some footing. The roots popped out, showering dirt everywhere, until it was completely free.

Leo tugged on the horse’s harness to stop him and hurried around to admire their handiwork. A nice gaping hole was all that was left where the tree had been. Creepy-crawlers and assorted critters scurried for shelter amid the smaller roots that stuck out from the ground like a macabre assortment of finger-thin bones.

Leo’s eyes focused on one section of ground, his eyes refusing to make sense of what he saw. He came to the realization of what he was looking at about the same time as the rest of the onlookers. Before he could say a word, a scream rose from someone in the gathering crowd.

The men rushed forward, gathered in a circle around the body that had been unearthed when the stump had been pulled free.

Murmurs filtered through the group. Someone yelled for the sheriff and several people peeled off from the others, racing for their horses. Leo doubted they’d have to wait long for Frank to show up. Knowing Frank, he was already on his way to the ranch. The bastard had to have something to do with this. And this time, Leo wasn’t so sure the sisters would emerge unscathed.

The townsfolk might have overlooked Bobby being found on their property. They might not have gone for their pitchforks and lynch rope when the Hudner family was found. But a third body, and the second to actually be found on the sisters’ property? A twinge of anxiety shot through Leo.

He rushed over and looked down into the shallow grave. Miguel and a couple of the other men had stooped to unearth what was left of the man. At least Leo was relatively sure it had been a man, going by what was left of his clothes. Heavy wool trousers, what was left of a red work shirt. And a pair of suspenders just like those his father had worn. Right down to the engraved monogram “F” etched in the gold of the clasp. Suspenders that Jake had been wearing the last time Leo had seen him. Just before he’d gone off to hunt for Blood Blade.

Leo stared, horrified, at the remains of his brother. Brynne fell to her knees, covering her eyes with her hands to block out the sight of the horror they’d unearthed in its shallow grave. Leo knew the sound of her pitiful keening would haunt him until the end of his days. Cilla and Lucy knelt beside her, Lucy’s face streaked with tears. Cilla just stared at the body before her, her face pale, devoid of expression.

That look hit Leo like a punch to the gut. Despair, denial, and pure rage churned inside him, the rush of emotions making it impossible to single out any specific reaction. He walked toward the sisters slowly, not wanting to confirm what he already knew.

The townspeople withdrew, some whispering, some staring at the sisters with pity, some with condemnation. Not one offered to stay, to help, to comfort. It was the last straw. First Bobby, then the Hudner family, and now…Jake.

Even if the sisters weren’t responsible, it was growing more and more obvious that they were somehow connected to the deaths. Whether it was Blood Blade or Frank, it didn’t matter. Either way, the people associated with the sisters seemed to be dropping like flies. And no one wanted to be next.

Leo stopped beside Cilla. There was no noise except for the sound of Lucy and Brynne crying. He wasn’t sure if they were alone, if all the townspeople had left. He didn’t care. He cared only that his brother lay dead in the ground at his feet and the woman he thought he loved stared at him without one ounce of emotion in her face.

He shied away from what that might mean. If it meant anything at all. Her sisters were obviously devastated. But Cilla wasn’t one to show much emotion. It didn’t mean she had anything to do with putting his brother in the ground.

His brother…

Leo tore his gaze away from Cilla’s face. He forced himself to look at his brother’s remains.

Jake’s body was almost entirely decomposed. There was the possibility it wasn’t him. Even though he was wearing what looked like Jake’s clothes. Jake’s suspenders. And had obviously been in the ground for several months.

“Maybe it’s not him,” Lucy said, though there was no real hope in her voice.

But Brynne latched onto the suggestion. “Where is his wedding ring? He was wearing it when he disappeared. Grandpa’s claddagh ring. He never took it off.”

Miguel immediately began searching the burial site, but it became quickly obvious that there wasn’t anything to find in the dark earth.

“Brynne,” Leo said, kneeling beside her, “is there anything else he might have had on him or with him that might help us?”

She shook her head. “It looks like the clothes he was wearing the last time I saw him. But without the ring…maybe…?”

She looked into his eyes with such despair-tinged hope that Leo’s heart felt like a bear trap had snapped around it.

“I found something.” Miguel held up what looked like a small gold heart dangling from a thin, golden chain.

He handed it to Brynne, who hunched over, such a piteous moan of grief erupting from her lips that Leo’s heart broke in two. Whatever it was that Miguel had handed her, it removed all doubt that the man they had found was her missing husband.

“What is it?” Leo asked her, speaking to her as he would to a wounded animal.

He wrapped his arm about her and she collapsed against him, her sobs wracking her body. Leo murmured nonsense to her, smoothed her hair back from her face, and finally, pulled her onto his lap and rocked her. He looked up to find Cilla watching him, her dry eyes haunted as she tried to comfort Lucy.

He turned his attention back to Brynne. “What is it? What did Miguel find?”

She didn’t answer, but after a bit more coaxing from him, she opened her fist and showed him the small locket. He took it from her and opened it to reveal a miniature portrait of a toddler.

“It’s me, when I was a baby,” Brynne said, her voice thick with grief. “Jake saw it one day, said he wanted our little girl to look just like me. He must have kept the necklace with him.” She broke down again before the last word had left her lips.

“We should get her inside,” Cilla said, her arms still firmly around Lucy.

Carmen nodded in agreement. “You go, take care of them,” she said to Leo. “We’ll take care of things here.”

Leo nodded and scooped Brynne up in his arms. She curled in on herself, turning into Leo’s chest and sobbing with renewed strength. Leo brought her back to the bunkhouse and tucked her into bed, removing her shoes and making her as comfortable as he could. She didn’t acknowledge his presence. She didn’t acknowledge anyone.

She just cried. Huge, wracking sobs wrenched her body so much that she vomited, heaving until there was nothing left in her to purge. And still she cried.

Leo cleaned up the mess while Lucy stewed some tea, curling up next to her sister as she tried to get her to drink. Brynne refused all their overtures. She wouldn’t eat or drink. Every few minutes, she’d hunch over, her body fighting to expel the grief in any way that it could. Even when there was nothing left, she still heaved, the force of her despair so great that blood vessels in her face broke, leaving behind angry, red splotches. Through it all, her tears never stopped flowing.

After a particularly fierce episode, Cilla tucked a fresh blanket around Brynne and reached over to take her sister’s face in her hands.

“Brynne,” she said, smoothing her sister’s hair out of eyes that were nearly swollen shut. “Brynne, you have to stop. Think of your baby. Please, try to stop.”

But Brynne just pulled out of Cilla’s hands and curled up on Lucy’s lap. After a few moments, Brynne’s sobs did seem to lose some of their terrifying strength. Lucy stroked her hair while Cilla rubbed her back. After a time, Brynne quieted as she drifted off. But even in sleep, her grief invaded, small whimpers and the occasional shuddering sob breaking through her slumber. Lucy held her tight, not letting her go even when she fell asleep as well.

Cilla’s eyes met Leo’s, but the sound of hooves clattering into the yard interrupted them. Her horrified gaze burned into his. Both of them knew who it was. Leo fingered the gun at his waist. He wouldn’t let Frank take any of the sisters. Not even Cilla, even if he wasn’t sure what, if anything, she had had to do with the whole situation. He didn’t know what had happened, but he knew that Cilla in Frank’s hands would be a bad thing.

Leo was surprised to realize that his uncertainty about Cilla hadn’t diminished his feelings for her. The thought of what Frank might to do her filled him with rage. He’d find out what had happened to Jake. And if it turned out that Cilla had had a hand in it, well…he would just deal with that situation. Until then, no one was going to touch her.

The horses clattered to a stop outside the door and Cilla climbed off the bed and stumbled outside, Leo close on her heels.

Frank and three of his deputies dismounted, the others hanging back as Frank strode to the porch and stopped in front of Cilla.

“There’s no hiding now, little sister. Awfully careless of you to bury the body on your own property. What’d you do? Forget which tree you buried him under? Then again, I suppose since you got away with it once with that sniveling little grocer boy, you thought no one would notice an extra grave or two, eh?”

Frank laughed and before Leo realized what she meant to do, Cilla hauled her arm back and slapped Frank hard enough to split his lip. Frank didn’t hesitate to strike back, backhanding her with enough force it knocked her to the ground.

Leo shouted and pulled his gun, jumping in front of Cilla as she got to her feet. A thin stream of blood rolled down her cheek and Leo’s vision went as red as the droplets on her skin. He squeezed the handle of his gun, his finger itching to pull the trigger. But even in his rage, he kept his sense about him. As much as he’d like to see Frank six feet under, he knew he’d have to go about it some other way. Not shooting him point blank with a yard full of witnesses.

“Go ahead,” Frank taunted, reaching up to wipe at his lip with the back of his hand.

The fading sunlight caught on the gold ring on his hand. A claddagh ring. A fresh wave of fury flooded Leo’s system and if it hadn’t been for Cilla reaching out to grasp his arm, he wasn’t sure what he would have done.

“You’ve got no business here, Frank. Leave. Now,” Leo said, not even recognizing his own voice through the fury and grief that laced every word.

“No business here? A body was just found on this property. The second body to be found in as many months. I’ve got a helluva lot of business here.”

“Your sisters had nothing to do with this and you know it,” Leo said, looking at Frank’s hand.

“I know nothing of the sort.” But his smile was all the proof Leo needed. “And I’ve got more than enough reason to take all of you into custody.”

Leo tried to move in front of Cilla, but she was having none of that. “You know damned well we had nothing to do with this, Frank. We’d have never hurt Jake. You are the only one who would have wanted him gone,” Cilla said. “And we aren’t going anywhere. Brynne is in no shape to be traveling anywhere. She’s taking this very hard. She’s not well.”

Frank shrugged. “Since when do suspected murderers get special treatment?”

Leo stepped forward. “You take her now, Frank, and anything happens to her, you’ll have her life and the life of her child on your hands. You haven’t turned everyone against us yet. How will it look for you to haul your own sister to jail in her condition? Harassing a pregnant woman is pretty low, Frank, even for you.”

“I doubt many would feel sorry for a murderous whore who’s been sleeping her way through your family. Hell, who even knows who fathered the get she’s carrying. For all you know, it’s your brother’s bastard in her belly.”

“That’s enough, Frank!” Leo’s anger boiled over until he couldn’t contain it anymore. “Unless you plan on fighting through me to get to them, you aren’t taking anyone tonight.”

“You’ll have to fight through me too,” Miguel said, materializing from the far side of the bunkhouse, a shotgun in his hands. He wasn’t pointing the muzzle at Frank, but near enough. Carmen came to stand on the porch. She’d obviously been listening to the entire exchange from inside the house. Her hand dangled by her side, a pistol held tight in its grip. Cilla fingered the gun at her own waist.

Frank’s eyes darted around, taking everyone, and their weapons, in. He took a step back. “I’ll be back for you,” he said to Cilla.

“I’ll be waiting,” she said. The resigned but determined tone of her voice pierced through Leo’s anger, and a brief glimpse of what life might be like without her wormed its way into his head and sent a spear of pain to his heart.

Once Frank and his men had left, Miguel nodded at Leo and went back to the barn where he had been building a hasty coffin for Jake’s remains. Carmen went back inside, leaving Leo alone on the porch with Cilla.

He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and reached out to wipe the blood from her face. She stopped him, taking the cloth from him and mopping at her face herself.

“You saw the ring,” she said.

Leo nodded.

“Now do you finally believe I had nothing to do with Jake’s disappearance?”

Leo flinched at the accusation in her voice. “I never believed—”

“Yes, you did,” Cilla said, throwing his handkerchief back at him. “I saw your face when we found his body. I saw what you were thinking.”

“Cilla, even if I did, it was only for a second.”

“That’s long enough,” she said, and for the first time he saw a crack in her carefully crafted demeanor.

“Cilla,” he said, grabbing her arm to keep her from leaving.

“No,” she said, wrenching out of his grasp. “This isn’t some misunderstanding. How could you still think, after all this time, after that night…after everything… It was still the first thought that crossed your mind.”

“It wasn’t…”

“Don’t lie to me! I was looking right into your eyes. I could see what you were thinking!”

He tried to reach for her again, but before either of them could say anything else, Lucy’s panicked voice called to them.

They ran inside, only to stop in horror.

Brynne lay on the bed in a pool of blood, her hands grasping at her belly as she writhed in pain.

“Get the midwife,” Cilla said to Leo.

He turned and ran, the terror in Cilla’s eyes spurring him into action and erasing everything else from his mind.

Dear God, he prayed. Don’t take them too.

Chapter Fifteen

Cilla propped another pillow behind Brynne’s head, murmuring soothing words to her sister while inwardly she screamed in panic. The baby was several weeks too early, and Brynne was physically and mentally drained.

“Where is Leo?” she whispered, sending Lucy back into the kitchen to heat more water. If he didn’t hurry, they were going to have to deliver the baby themselves. The thought filled Cilla with a near-paralyzing dread.

She lived on a ranch, so she knew the basics. But helping a cow give birth was a lot different than helping her sister.

Brynne cried out again, and Cilla could see the muscles rippling across her belly. It wouldn’t be long now.

Where was he?

As if she’d summoned him, the door opened and Leo rushed in. Alone. Cilla left Brynne and hurried over to him.

“Where is the midwife?” she whispered.

He took her arm and pulled her out onto the porch. “She wouldn’t come.”

“What?”

Leo shushed her and glanced into the house where Brynne was wailing, in the grip of yet another contraction.

“She refused to come.”

“But we need her. Brynne needs her. What does she want? More money? I’ll get it. However much she wants.”

Leo shook his head. “It won’t matter. I begged her, bribed her, and when that failed, God forgive me, I even threatened her. Nothing worked. She’s afraid, Cilla. Said anyone associated with the three of you ends up dead and she didn’t want to be next.”

Ice ran through Cilla’s blood. She wasn’t sure which was stronger, her fear for her sister or her fear of what the midwife’s refusal meant to them all.

“She doesn’t believe that we are responsible for all the deaths, does she?”

Leo shook his head. “I don’t think so. But it doesn’t matter. Whether it’s Blood Blade or Frank behind the murders, people close to you are ending up dead. And no one is willing to risk being the next body found in your backyard.”

Carmen came out onto the porch. “Is the midwife coming?”

“No,” Cilla said, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

Carmen swore under her breath. “We’ll just have to bring this baby into the world ourselves. You,” she said to Leo, “get more wood, stack it on the porch. Get Miguel to help you.”

Brynne screamed, and the sound tore right through Cilla’s chest. She ran into the bunkhouse, everything else forgotten for the moment. Carmen was close on her heels.

Brynne writhed on the bed. Lucy sat beside her, clutching her hand, her face a mask of horror and fear.

Leo tried to follow them, but Carmen stopped him.

“There’s nothing more you can do right now, mijo. Go find Miguel.”

She pushed him gently out the door and closed it in his face.

…

Leo stared at the closed door, unsure of what to do. Another scream came from within and Leo reached out to open the door. He didn’t know what he could do to help, but there had to be something. The look on Cilla’s face stuck in his mind, haunting him. She was afraid, unsure. And it wasn’t the nerves he’d caught a glimpse of before a raid or the anxiety she felt for the people she tried to help. It was pure, honest-to-goodness terror for her sister. Leo had never felt so helpless in his life.

He reached out to grasp the doorknob, but Miguel stopped him.

“Come, let’s get some wood like mi esposa asked.”

Leo still hesitated, torn between wanting to go in and wanting to run as far and as fast as he could.

Miguel just smiled and clapped a hand on his back. “Come on, vamos. We’ll only be in the way in there.”

Leo supposed that made sense. And though the thought brought a wheelbarrow filled with guilt, he was relieved that his presence wasn’t required in the birthing chamber. He’d never seen a woman give birth before and judging from the sounds coming out of the bunkhouse, that was probably a good thing.

He sent up a quick, silent prayer for his brother’s wife and soon-to-be born child and followed Miguel.

Leo spent a restless night in Carmen and Miguel’s cottage. Around dawn, he finally gave up trying to sleep and made his way back to the bunkhouse. He sat on the steps and waited for what seemed like an eternity, though when Carmen finally opened the door, the sun hadn’t yet fully risen.

Leo jumped up and Carmen gave him a tired smile. The tightly wound coil of tension in his gut eased a bit at that smile.

“Come in, mijo,” she said.

Leo took off his hat and stepped inside, pausing for a moment to let his eyes adjust to the light. When he could focus, the sight that met him made his heart clench. Cilla sat in the corner near the fireplace, crooning to a tiny bundle in her arms. She looked up at him and her smile was like a ray of sunshine, warming him inside and out.

He looked over at Brynne, who lay sleeping in the bed. Lucy was curled up fast asleep by her side. Brynne was pale, her face nearly as white as the linens she lay under. But her chest rose with a steady rhythm. He sat on a chair next to the bed and reached over to take her hand.

“Is she okay?” he whispered.

Carmen smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “She needs lots of rest and good food. It was difficult for her. But she will be fine.”

Leo nodded, not quite convinced, but he admittedly knew little of such matters.

Cilla stood and came to him, the bundle in her arms squirming a little as she held it out. Leo tried to protest, but Cilla thrust the baby at him before he could say anything. The baby settled into his arms and he froze, afraid of making any movements that might hurt the tiny thing. He’d ever held a baby before.

He drew his finger across the fine down on its head and along its cheek. His heart twisted all over again when the infant opened its little mouth and turned toward his finger as if it were going to suckle it. He tucked his finger into the baby’s grasping hand, in awe of its perfectly formed little fingers.

“Boy or girl?” he asked.

“You have a daughter,” Cilla answered.

Leo’s head jerked up at that. He started to shake his head. This child was his brother’s offspring, not his.

Cilla gave him a smile, though her eyes were filled with pain. And resignation.

“Jake is gone, Leo. Now more than ever, Brynne is going to need a good, strong man at her side. And Coraline needs a father.”

“Brynne named her after my mother?” Leo was touched. And he did feel a strong sense of responsibility for the tiny life in his arms. And for her mother. He would care for them. Protect them, make sure they wanted for nothing. But he could do all that as the baby’s uncle, as Brynne’s brother-in-law. Surely even Brynne would agree. She wouldn’t want to spend her life married to a man she didn’t love, even for the sake of her baby. Would she?

It was clear by the look on Cilla’s face that she seemed to think so.

“Cilla,” he began, but she held up a hand to stop him.

“You are already her husband, Leo. We may have intended for the union to be temporary, but in light of all that’s happened…”

A twinge of panic began to make its way through Leo’s heart. He was going to lose her. She was going to try and do the noble thing yet again and sacrifice her own happiness for what she felt was best for someone else. And he very much doubted she’d listen to any argument against it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try.

“Cilla,” he said, but this time he was interrupted by a tiny squeak from the little one in his arms.

Leo looked down in alarm. Had he hurt her? What was wrong? He looked between Cilla and Carmen in panic. Cilla smiled and Carmen took the baby from him. “She’s just hungry,” she said, chuckling.

He relinquished the baby. Carmen roused Brynne and settled the baby in her arms. Leo quickly stood and headed for the door to give her some privacy while she nursed her child. He grabbed Cilla’s hand and drew her out with him. They needed to talk.

She only half-heartedly resisted, which he took as a bad sign. That probably meant she knew what he wanted to discuss and had already made up her mind that he wouldn’t change hers. Still, he was going to try to get through her thick skull.

Cilla closed the door behind them and rounded on him before he could get a word out.

“I know what you are going to say, but…”

“Then would you please give me the courtesy of allowing me to say it?”

Cilla opened her mouth and then snapped it shut again. “Fine, but not here.”

She stomped off the porch and headed for the barn.

Leo kept right on her heels and the second they were inside, he spoke. “It will always be my highest priority to ensure the safety and well-being of my brother’s wife and child, but seeing to their care does not necessitate me becoming Brynne’s husband.”

“Becoming her husband? You already are her husband, Leo. There is no proof she and Jake were ever married, but there sure as hell is proof you are married to her. We made sure of that.”

Leo wanted to take a step back under her vehemence but held his ground.

“Technically, Brynne and I are married, but it was never supposed to be a permanent arrangement, remember?”

“That was before! Jake is gone, Leo. He’s never coming back. So what’s your plan? Are you going to divorce her now? Walk away from a woman whose husband has just been found murdered, leave her alone to raise her child, all because this wasn’t supposed to be permanent?”

“No! I told you, I will always be around to make sure they are taken care of. But I can do that without being her husband. Surely, she doesn’t want to spend the rest of her life with a man she doesn’t love. Have you even asked her what she wants? Or are you too busy dictating everyone else’s lives to bother giving them a choice?”

Cilla took a step closer to him, so fuming mad her cheeks were lit up like a bonfire. Damn, but she was beautiful when she was angry.

“This is about that helpless little baby in there. This is about what is best for her. Do you really think that growing up with a murdered father and an unmarried mother is what is best for her? Do you have any idea what people will say? How they’ll treat her? Even if you were to convince the preacher that your marriage was never consummated after the little scene he witnessed, where does that leave Coraline? If she isn’t your daughter, she’ll be branded a bastard. Do you want her to go through life with that? That is what this is about now. Not about what Brynne or you or I want.”

Leo reached out and cupped Cilla’s face. “What do you want, Cilla?”

She leaned into his hand for just a moment. “It doesn’t matter,” she whispered. When she pulled away, her eyes were filled with the same pain that was searing through his chest.

How could he let her go? How could he not? Leo knew she was right. He knew that people could be cruel, knew that his presence would go a long way toward shielding that tiny, fragile little creature he’d held in his arms from the injustices of the world.

But at what cost?

Cilla turned to leave the barn, but he caught her arm and drew her to him. “Just once more, Priscilla. Let me hold you, just once more.”

Cilla hesitated and then moved stiffly into his arms. He wrapped himself about her, trying to bring her in as close as he could. She held herself aloof for a moment, and then sank into his embrace. He wanted to remember every line of her, every sensation. The smell of her hair, the way it felt beneath his cheek. The way her breath hitched as his lips trailed down her forehead, across her jaw line. The velvety softness of her lips as he pressed his own to them.

He drank her in, molding their bodies together. For one brief moment, his world was complete and he finally understood the meaning of pure joy.

And then it was gone.

Cilla pulled away and ran out the door, leaving him standing in the cool morning air, a gaping hole where his heart used to be.

Chapter Sixteen

The next few weeks were a curious mixture of heaven and hell for Cilla. And, she suspected, for most of the people in the house. She and Leo avoided each other whenever possible. They spoke to each other only when it was necessary and they had managed to avoid eye contact altogether. Though Lucy and Carmen noticed that things had changed between them, both kept it to themselves, for now. And Brynne was completely absorbed by her baby.

Coraline was the bright light for everyone. She was small, but she was a feisty wee thing. The cries that began as tiny mouse squeaks grew in volume as her little lungs grew in strength.

Not that she cried much. She was a good baby, protesting only when she was hungry or needed changing. She was rarely set down, often nestled in the arms of Cilla or Lucy or most often, cuddled next to her mama.

On occasion, Leo would hold her, though he preferred to leave the baby coddling to the women. Every now and then, though, Cilla would catch him cradling the baby. And every time, it would hurt a bit more. To see him gently rocking the tiny infant in his strong arms was one of the sweetest, most touching, and most heartbreaking things Cilla had ever witnessed. She felt like the world’s worst aunt for begrudging little Coraline even a fraction of Leo’s love, but every time she saw him with the child it only served to remind her that he would never cradle their child against his chest. Would never murmur off-key lullabies when he thought no one was listening in their home.

The first time she’d handed the baby to him and felt the unfamiliar pang, it had taken her a moment to realize what she was feeling. It had never occurred to her that she might want a home and family of her own. A husband and children of her own. A family had never seemed to be more than another burden, more people to love—possibly to lose. More loved ones to protect from Frank. She’d shied from the subject any time it had been broached. She’d made up her mind long ago. She never wanted to marry and had certainly never wanted children.

Yet when she watched Leo with little Coraline, she couldn’t help but feel a crushing sense of loss. The dream she never knew she wanted was already lost to her. The small spark of whatever it was that they’d had between them had been extinguished. She’d lost him for good.

Not that he had been hers to lose.

Maynard snorted, bringing Cilla’s attention back to what she was supposed to be doing. She tried to shake off her melancholy and turned back to brushing him, running the stiff brush across his coat as her thoughts ran rampant in her head.

“I was fine until he came along. I never wanted any of this. Didn’t want the whole marriage and children thing. Certainly never wanted him,” she whispered to Maynard. “So why is my heart breaking for something I never even wanted? That was never mine to lose? How do I make the hurting stop?”

The horse huffed and tossed his head. Cilla smiled. “You don’t have any idea, do you?” She rubbed Maynard’s head, buried her face in his mane. “If you figure it out, let me know, will ya?”

Maynard snorted again and Cilla gave him a pat before heading off to finish the rest of her chores. Though there weren’t enough chores in the world to chase the thoughts from her churning mind.

She drove the hoe into the ground with extra gusto. She knew that the situation with Leo was only part of the reason for her mood of late. She was getting antsy. They hadn’t heard from Frank in weeks. He’d made a brief appearance after Jake’s funeral, and he’d “questioned” everyone at the ranch, though everyone knew it was a farce.

He was up to something. Cilla just wasn’t sure what. If he was trying to frame them for the murder of Jake, and the Hudner family, and Bobby, then why wasn’t he arresting them? It seemed a lot of trouble to go through just to alienate the sisters from the townspeople. Surely there were easier ways to get that accomplished. And if he had planned on arresting the sisters for guilt by association, he would have done so by now. Frankly, he had plenty of reason to do so. It looked bad even to Cilla and she knew they’d done nothing wrong.

So what was his game?

The uncertainty was driving Cilla mad. They had also decided not to run anymore raids for a while. With Frank up to no good, and with Brynne still recovering from Coraline’s birth, the sisters had agreed it would be better to lay low. And Cilla hated to admit it, even to herself, but she wasn’t sure the townspeople would want or accept Blood Blade’s help anymore. Frank had managed to accomplish at least one thing with all his murders.

The midwife wasn’t the only one afraid to be seen with the sisters. Most others in town felt the same way, and they didn’t want any association with Blood Blade either.

For the first time, Cilla felt a qualm of unease at the thought of going into town, but they needed some supplies. And she had never been one to back down from anything that made her nervous. She had no intention, however, of letting Lucy go with her. She knew she was being overcautious, but better that than be sorry. Miguel would accompany her instead.

As it turned out, Lucy didn’t even ask to go. She was so enamored of little Coraline, she would spend her spare moments playing with the little one than going into town.

As Cilla and Miguel were readying their horses, Leo came out to the barn. He didn’t say a word to Cilla but grabbed a saddle and went to his horse.

“I’ll be fine with Miguel,” Cilla said, watching him from the corner of her eye. It was the first thing she’d said to him in almost a week. Her heart constricted just being in the same space with him. She didn’t think she could handle the twenty-minute ride into town with him riding beside her.

“I’m not letting you ride into a hostile town without me. Especially with Frank planning God knows what.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve got Miguel.”

“And now you’ve got me.” He finished saddling his horse and mounted.

“Leo…”

He pinned her with his gaze. Cilla fought down the rush of butterflies that hit her belly at the first eye contact they’d made in over a week.

“You’re not going without me,” he said, his jaw set.

Despite her best intentions, Cilla felt her traitorous heart skip a few beats as he stared her down. She knew there was no arguing with him, and truth be told, she’d be glad to have him at her back if things went bad. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Fine,” she muttered, turning to mount her own horse.

“Let’s just get what we need and get out.”

“Agreed.”

“If Señor Leo is going into town with you, then I should stay behind and keep an eye on things here,” Miguel said.

Leo nodded. “It’s settled.” He turned his horse and rode out before Cilla could get another word in.

She looked back and forth between Miguel and the cloud of dust where Leo had been, her mouth dropped open in surprise.

Miguel made a half-hearted attempt to keep the smile off his lips. “You’d better hurry and catch up,” he said, his smile widening as Cilla scowled at him.

She turned and spurred her horse after Leo, catching up to him a few minutes later.

“I didn’t need you to come with me. It would be better for you to stay behind in case they need you at the ranch.”

Leo glanced at her briefly before turning his attention back to the trail ahead of him.

“They’ll be fine at the ranch. We haven’t seen another soul there in weeks. You are the one riding into possible danger. You need me at your back.”

“I would have been fine,” Cilla muttered, prompting a laugh from Leo.

“Do you have to fight everything?”

“I don’t have to,” she said, inciting another laugh from him.

Her lips twitched in response. She was well aware she was a stubborn ass. It would do him good to keep that in mind.

They spent nearly the entire ride in silence, but for the first time since the night Coraline was born it was a comfortable silence. It felt good to be near him without the danger of anything happening between them. Just to be alone with him for a minute, out in the open air. Cilla relaxed for the first time in weeks. She wished the ride could last forever.

The town appeared at the end of the trail long before Cilla was ready to arrive. The tension began to return to her body, every muscle tightening, wary for any sign of danger. It was a weird sensation riding through the streets that had once been filled with their friends and allies. Now people stopped their conversations to watch them pass, their eyes wary, some distrustful, some concerned. But none were outright threatening. Yet.

That is, the people who were visible on the streets. The place looked like a ghost town. Some of the shops had boarded up windows; most looked like they’d seen better days. Not that the town would have ever won any awards, but now it looked like a town under siege. Which, Cilla supposed, it was.

They tethered their horses outside the general store and went inside. Mrs. Williams looked up as the bell chimed, her face paling when she saw who it was. Cilla hesitated just inside the door, not certain she’d be welcome. There were a few other shoppers in the store who looked back and forth between Mrs. Williams and Cilla and Leo, probably wondering the same thing.

Leo moved closer behind her and put one hand on her upper arm, though she noticed he was careful to leave her gun arm free. Finally, Mrs. Williams drew herself up and wiped her hands on her apron.

“Come on in, Priscilla. What can I get for you?”

Cilla could feel the tension going out of Leo even as she relaxed a bit. She went to the counter and gave Mrs. Williams her list. Leo stayed near the door, meeting her eyes every now and then with a reassuring look, before resuming his scan of the store and walkway outside. Mrs. Williams laid the last item on the counter and took the money that Cilla handed her. Leo came over to help carry the supplies, but Mrs. Williams grabbed Cilla’s hand.

“Just a moment, please. I’ve got something for you.”

Cilla’s brow furrowed but she nodded. The older woman gave her a small smile and hurried into the back.

Cilla glanced at Leo, but he just shrugged. Big help.

The door opened and Leo tensed, so Cilla immediately knew that whoever had come in was a potential threat. He put his arm around Cilla and turned her to face the counter, keeping their backs to the newcomers, but kept his head slightly turned so he could keep watch.

Two men Cilla had seen riding with Frank came bustling into the store as Mrs. Williams came out of the back with a parcel wrapped in brown paper. Her face went even paler, if that were possible, but the men were too engrossed in their conversation to pay attention to anyone else.

“Can I help you gentlemen?” Mrs. Williams said, the tremor in her voice revealing her anxiety.

“A pound of tobacco, and make it fast. We’re in a hurry,” one man said, not even bothering to look her way.

“I’ll be glad when we get this next load safe under guard,” the other man said to him.

“Me too. Blood Blade has been too quiet lately. I don’t like it.”

Cilla froze, every sense on alert the second Blood Blade’s name was mentioned.

“Me either. This is exactly the sort of thing he’d love to get his hands on. All that gold sitting there just waiting to be taken.”

Tobacco Man snorted. “It’s not here yet. And when it does get here, he wouldn’t dare try to touch it. Even he’s not man enough to steal it from right under the sheriff’s nose. Though I don’t know why he’s insisting on bringing so much here anyhow. It’d be safer in his bank in San Francisco,” he said, grabbing his tobacco. “Well, it’ll be gone soon enough once we get that safe in. Then I can rest easy.” He finally looked at Mrs. Williams. “Put it on my tab.”

Mrs. Williams’s lips tightened—she didn’t run tabs, and never had, Cilla knew—but she didn’t say anything as the man burst out laughing and turned away. The men continued talking as they headed out the door.

Cilla fumed, incensed at their treatment of Bobby’s mother, and their outright theft of the tobacco. She had no doubt that Mrs. Williams would never see a penny from them. And she had a feeling that this happened more often than not.

But as the men’s conversation seeped into her consciousness, her body buzzed with excitement. A shipment of gold! If she could get her hands on it, they could hold it as ransom and use it to bribe Frank to get out of town, or give it back to the townspeople and show just how much Frank was really bleeding them dry. Or…hell, she didn’t know, hire a gunslinger to clean all the riffraff out of the town or something.

Better yet, they could buy back all the property Frank had been snatching up and rescue those he was pressuring to sell. Without the gold to pay his goons and bankroll his overtake of the town, Frank’s hold on the town would be over. They could make plans for the gold later. All she knew was that she wanted to get her hands on that gold. Frank had no right to it! He’d stolen it from every person in town and they deserved to have their hard-earned money back.

As soon as the men were out of the store, Cilla turned to Mrs. Williams. “I’ll be right back.”

She ducked behind the counter and ran for the back door, ignoring both Mrs. Williams’s squeak of protest and Leo’s cursing. She poked her head out the back and crept to the corner of the building. The men had paused just inside the alley between the general store and the Whitteker’s old, now-abandoned, hotel.

Their voices were a bit muffled, but Cilla could just make them out.

“Think she bought it?”

“Oh, yeah. Did you see her droolin’ over the thought of all that gold? She’ll tell the devil bandit for sure.”

“You really think he’ll be dumb enough to try and snatch it?”

“ ’Course. Too much a temptation for a regular man, no counting one like him. When’s it going to be here, anyhow?”

“Cooper’s bringin’ it in on the morning train on Thursday. The sheriff has us setting up a fake safe and everything back in his office. Damned waste of time, if you ask me. We’ll grab the son of a bitch soon as he shows his bandana’d face.”

“Yeah, but the boss wants to make it look real. Wants to make sure the bait is set nice and proper.”

“Let’s get to it then. Sooner we get this pain in the ass out of the way, sooner we can run this town the way it should be.”

Cilla had to clench her fists to keep from jumping out and pummeling the two braying jackasses. But she kept it together. Time enough for revenge.

Cilla turned to go back into the store and ran smack into Leo’s hard, unyielding chest. She jumped as if he’d bitten her.

“What do you think you are up to?” he asked.

“Just wanted to hear a little more, that’s all.”

“Cilla…”

She ignored him and the warning tone in his voice and marched back into the shop.

“Mrs. Williams, how often are Frank’s men in here getting free goods?”

“Oh, don’t pay any mind to that. They just keep an open tab, that’s all.”

The sound of shattering glass interrupted Cilla’s next thought and she ran to the window to look out into the street. A fight had broken out in the shop across the street and it looked as though a chair had been thrown through the window. Cilla gasped and made to run outside, but Leo held her back. She went back to Mrs. Williams, who didn’t seem surprised in the least.

“Does that happen often?”

“Often enough. It’s all right. That’s the Bartons’ place. They cleared out of town a few weeks ago.”

“The Bartons have been around for longer than I can remember. Why would they leave?”

“Sheriff Richardson raised their rent again. They couldn’t pay. He gave them a week to pay up or get out. So they left.”

“But Frank doesn’t own their shop. They were in this town before it was a town.”

Mrs. Williams fidgeted with a few knickknacks on the counter. “The sheriff bought them out, let them stay on as tenants. He owns most of the places around here now. Keeps trying to get me to sell, but I won’t, no matter how much pressure he puts on me,” she said, a spark of her old stubbornness returning to her eyes.

“If I could get word to Blood Blade how bad things have gotten, he could…”

“Oh, goodness, no! I mean,” she said, her face turning red as she reached out for Cilla’s hand, “I know you mean well, child. But no. We don’t want no part of Blood Blade in this town anymore.”

Cilla felt as though she’d been socked in the gut. Blood Blade had never done anything but help these people.

Mrs. Williams obviously knew what Cilla was thinking.

“I know your family has always been…friendly with…you know who. And I know he’s helped a bit in the past. But any help from him would just come at too great a cost. Maybe if my Bobby hadn’t been…” She sniffed and shook her head.

“Never mind. Here.” She pushed the package toward Cilla. “Here. Give this to your sister. We heard that she had her baby. Is it…doing well?”

The guilt on her face made it apparent that she also knew that the midwife had refused to deliver the baby. Cilla pushed away the spark of anger that flared up. She couldn’t blame these people for not wanting to get on Frank’s bad side. Even if it had almost cost her sister and the baby their lives.

“Yes, Brynne and the baby are both doing well. She had a little girl.”

Mrs. Williams smiled. “I’m glad to hear it. Children are such a blessing.”

Her smile faded and grief crept across her face. Now it was Cilla’s turn to feel guilty. She took the package.

“Thank you. This is very kind of you.”

Mrs. Williams swiped away a few tears that had escaped and waved Cilla away. “Oh, it’s not much. Some old baby blankets I’d been saving and some cloth that makes the softest diapers this side of the Rockies. A few other odds and ends.”

“Brynne will be glad for them.” Cilla gave her a warm smile and gathered up the rest of their purchases.

By the time they’d stashed the supplies away in the saddlebags, Cilla’s mind was already back on the gold. They mounted and headed out of town. Leo didn’t say anything, but she knew it was coming. He knew her well enough by now that he would know what she was thinking.

He waited until the town was a ways behind them and it was clear no one was following them before he let into her.

“Don’t even think about it.”

“Leo, do you have any idea what we could do with that amount of gold? We could buy the whole town back!”

“First of all, you have no idea how much gold will be there. And second, it has to be a trap! Do you really think it was coincidence that two of Frank’s men just happened to walk into the general store at the same time we were in town for supplies?”

“Well, no.”

“And do you believe they would just walk into a public place blathering about a train full of gold coming in, where anyone could hear it, and just happen to let it slip where they’d be keeping all that gold once it did arrive?”

“Of course not!”

“You’re crazy. Absolutely, lock-you-away, out-of-your-mind crazy!”

“I am not! If we’re aware it is a trap, then it’s not really a trap, is it?”

Leo frowned at her but he didn’t argue. She took that as a good sign and pressed on.

“A trap needs a certain element of surprise in order to work, agreed?”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “I’ll agree with that. So what’s your point?”

“If we know going in that they are waiting for us, then we can plan ahead for that. We are already two steps ahead of them because we know that they know that we are coming but they don’t know that we know. See?”

Leo sighed and rubbed a hand down his face. “Cilla, no one could follow that.”

“You’re just being obstinate! This can work, Leo. We can do this.”

A grudging smile played at the corner of his lips. “Arguing with you is like yelling at a deaf cat. Neither one of you hears a thing and wouldn’t follow directions if you could.”

Cilla grinned at him. “So you’ll help me?”

Leo shook his head and laughed. “I’ll hear you out. But you get to tell Brynne.” He spurred his horse into a gallop.

Cilla stuck her tongue out at him and followed him home. She had no idea what to say to her sister, but she had a feeling Brynne would be a lot harder to convince than Leo.

Only one way to find out.

Chapter Seventeen

“Are you out of your mind?”

Brynne slammed her hands down on the table and glowered at Cilla. The scene felt eerily familiar. Leo had apparently noticed because he spent an unnecessary amount of time rubbing a finger across his twitching lips. Finally, Cilla had had enough.

“Brynne, I am not crazy. This could work! And you!” she said, rounding on Leo. “I fail to see what is so amusing about this.”

He shook his head. “Then you are blind as well as deaf. Brynne is right. You are out of your mind. It’s a trap. You know it’s a trap. Frank will be waiting to pounce the second he sees your face. Did you ever stop to wonder what Frank is doing with all that gold? What possible purpose he might have for bringing it here?”

“It doesn’t matter what he plans on doing with it. It can’t be for anything good.”

“Exactly!” Brynne shouted. “Cilla, that gold is nothing but bait to lure you in. And you are falling for it.”

“I’m not falling for it. I’m fully aware that Frank is trying to lure me in, but he can’t capture me if I steal the bait first.”

Leo frowned and even Brynne calmed down enough to look curious. “What do you mean?”

“Frank will be waiting for us, as you said. He’ll probably have a dozen men guarding his office, his house, and anywhere else where he might hide a safe. His men even said they were setting up a fake safe, which means he doesn’t plan on putting the gold anywhere we’d look for it. So we just have to get to the bait before the trap is set.”

Brynne sat with a huff and crossed her arms. But her expression did carry a spark of interest. “Explain.”

“We take it off the train before it ever gets to Bethany Ridge.”

Leo was shaking his head again. “That’s easier said than done. Frank might be setting the trap here, but that doesn’t mean the gold won’t be guarded on the train. We know there will be at least one man with it. And even if you manage to get back into the cargo hold without being seen, how are you going to get the gold off the train? You can’t just stuff it inside your reticule.”

“True. So we simply have to separate the train from the gold.”

Leo and Brynne both stared at her like she was a cat chasing a fly on the wall.

“How?” Brynne asked.

“We can stash away underneath the train, and once it’s on the move, and a safe distance from any station, we unhook the cars. By the time the conductor realizes he’s lost the cargo car, we’ve already gotten in and out again.”

Brynne and Leo stared at her for a full minute without speaking, their mouths open in shock. Finally, Brynne turned to Leo. “You were right. She’s gone insane.”

“Argh!” Cilla dropped into her chair and glared at both of them. “It could work!”

“You are going to hang on to the bottom of a moving train and climb across the connectors to release the pin? While the train is moving?”

“I didn’t say it would be easy.”

Brynne snorted.

Cilla shot her a dirty look. “But I think it can be done. I can even practice.”

A short bark of laughter erupted from Leo. “How?”

“Strap me to the bottom of a moving wagon and see if I can unhitch the wagon from the horse.”

Brynne stared at her, dumbfounded. “You can’t be serious.”

“It’s better than trying on the train for the first time and finding out I can’t do it.”

Brynne kept quiet, just shaking her head as if Cilla had finally struck her speechless.

Leo leaned his elbows on the table and Cilla took heart in the fact that his brows were drawn together in thought.

“How do you get the gold?” he asked.

“We get in, incapacitate whatever thug they’ve got watching the gold, snatch it, and get out of there.”

“What if there’s more than one?”

“We deal with it then. But Frank doesn’t have that many men he trusts, and I’m guessing he’ll have most of the men in place at his office and stashed around town. Especially if he thinks we are behind Blood Blade. Frank has a bad habit of underestimating us. I doubt he’d believe we’d try a train heist. All the information those idiots were feeding us at the store revolved around the gold being in his office. Not the train. They didn’t know I was listening to that part.”

Leo nodded, but the frown still sat between his brows. “What if the gold is in a safe?”

Cilla’s eyes darted between Leo and Brynne.

“I’ve got it covered.”

“How?” Brynne insisted.

Cilla huffed and walked to her saddlebag, which was leaning against the wall by the front door. She’d been hoping to keep this part to herself until absolutely necessary, but here went nothing. She reached in and pulled out two sticks of dynamite.

“Priscilla Marie Richardson, where in the name of all that is holy did you get that?”

Brynne looked like she wanted to rip it from Cilla’s hands but was too afraid to touch it.

Cilla sighed. “I knew you’d overreact.”

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter where I got it. Point is, I have it if we need it. If the safe is small enough, we carry it off and deal with it at our leisure. If it’s too large for that, we blow the sucker open.”

Cilla couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She’d always wanted to blow something up.

“This isn’t fun and games, Cilla,” Leo said, his chastising tone not quite mixing with the amusement in his eyes. He wanted to play with the dynamite every bit as much as she did. She knew there was a reason she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

The moment the thought invaded her mind, she pushed it back out again. No time for any of that. Now or ever.

She needed to focus on what was important. Which, at the moment, was the fact that Leo seemed to be on her side.

Brynne must have noticed the same thing. “Leo. You can’t possibly be considering this crazy plan.”

He held up his hands and opened his mouth to speak, but Cilla cut him off.

“As long as the train keeps the same schedule it has for the last five years, it’ll arrive Thursday night around two o’clock in the morning. Which means they’ll stop in Redford around midnight. They’ll unload whatever mail and cargo bound for Redford and we should have at least twenty minutes before they leave again. One of us stows away beneath the train, and the others ride ahead to the rendezvous point and wait for the train to pass by.”

“One of us will stow away? Let me guess…”

Cilla had the grace to flush, but she stuck out her chin anyway, determined to see this through.

“I’m smaller than you and lighter. I’ll fit easier and it will be easier for me to move about.”

Before he could protest, Lucy spoke up. “I’m smaller than both of you. Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to do it?”

All three of them spoke up at once. There was no way any of them would let Lucy ride beneath that train.

Lucy’s lips jutted in a pretty pout. “You can’t do this all alone, Cilla. You let me ride on raids with you. Why not this?”

“Raids are a bit different than strapping my baby sister to the bottom of a moving train,” Cilla argued.

“Exactly!” Brynne jumped in. “There is no way you are going to do this, Priscilla Richardson. I forbid it! We have to find another way to fight Frank.”

“How?” Cilla asked. “Give me another option and I’ll listen. You didn’t see what I saw, Brynne. The town has been completely overrun by Frank and his goons. They own the place. They bought out nearly every business in Bethany Ridge and those who won’t sell are terrorized out of town. And no one will accept Blood Blade’s help anymore. Frank has them so terrified that even if they don’t believe Blood Blade is the one killing everyone, they know that people are being killed in his name or because they are connected to him somehow. What else can we do?”

Brynne opened her mouth to answer but closed it again.

“Exactly,” Cilla said. “There is no other way. But if we had that gold, all that gold that Frank has wrung out of everyone, then we’d have something to bargain with. We’d have something to fight with. Without it, we are just as helpless as the townspeople.”

Leo sighed. “I hate to admit it, but she has a point.”

“Leo,” Brynne said, her voice hitching with emotion. “It’s too dangerous. It’s a suicide mission. At best, one of you will be captured, and at worst…”

Cilla spoke before Leo could. “That is true every time we walk out that door to go on a raid. Nothing has happened so far.”

“We’ve been lucky. And what do you mean, nothing? You were shot!”

Cilla rolled her eyes. “Once. It was barely more than a scratch.”

“Next time it might be more than that! Even Frank could get lucky one of these days.”

“Brynne,” Cilla said, speaking like she was trying to calm a skittish horse, “I know this is dangerous. I know what we are risking. But if we can pull this off, it’ll be over. Don’t you see? No more raids. No more risking our lives. One way or the other, we can use it to get Frank out of town. And then it will be over. We’ll be free.”

Brynne stared at Cilla, her chest heaving. But Cilla knew she was right. Even Brynne had to agree. When her sister’s shoulders slumped in defeat, Cilla knew she’d won.

Cilla looked up into the sea of stars above her head and wondered how she’d once again ended up huddled up with Leo in the dark. Oh, right. Because he was an overbearing, overprotective, completely irritating nit who refused to let her do anything on her own. She tried very hard to stamp down on the tiny part of her heart that thought his concern was sweet. She couldn’t afford to let herself dwell on any of that. He wasn’t hers, and never would be.

Maybe after they got the gold and rid the town of Frank, she could go off somewhere. Maybe go east. Or head up north. The thought of leaving her beloved ranch nearly broke her heart. But the thought of staying and watching the man she lov—watching Leo as her sister’s husband was more than she could bear.

“What are you thinking?” Leo said, moving to sit beside her.

Cilla kept her eyes on the train station several hundred yards in front of them.

“I’m thinking that it’s ridiculous that you stayed behind to babysit me. I can manage to slip onto a train by myself. You should have gone ahead with Miguel and Lucy.”

“You don’t have to do everything by yourself, you know.”

“I don’t try to do everything by myself.”

Leo snorted.

“Shut up.”

Leo’s chuckle rumbled from deep in his chest, sounding warm, guttural, and intensely virile.

And entirely too enticing. She tried to scoot a little farther away, but Leo reached out and grasped her arm. “You don’t have to move away.”

“Yes,” she said, staring up into his eyes. “I do.”

“Why? Are you going to take advantage of me, Miss Richardson?”

A smile played at his lips and it took everything Cilla had not to lean over and kiss him. She’d like very much to take advantage of him. In fact, she’d like nothing more than to taste every single, solid inch of him. Repeatedly. Until he shouted her name and begged her for mercy.

Instead, she tried to smile back.

“Something like that,” she murmured.

“Maybe I want to be taken advantage of.” He leaned in closer and Cilla prayed for strength. She reveled in the musky scent of leather and the faint hint of peppermint that always hung about him. She’d once caught him sucking on one of the candies that Mrs. Williams had slipped into her purchases. It was probably one of the things she loved most about him. Her big, strong man who loved a child’s treat. She’d never be able to smell peppermint again without thinking of him.

“This isn’t a good idea, Leo.”

“I don’t care,” he whispered, reaching out to cup her cheek.

He drew her closer and Cilla’s eyes closed as his lips brushed against hers.

A train whistle sounded and Cilla jumped up, adrenaline pumping through her system with such speed her head swam. Showtime!

She stripped off her coat and shirt, leaving her in her tight-fitting long johns and pants. She patted her hair to make sure it was bound as tightly around her head as it could be. Any loose clothing or trailing hair would be trouble. Everything seemed to be in place.

Cilla took one step in the direction of the station, but Leo jerked her back. He grabbed her face in his hands and kissed her, good and hard, his lips crushing hers with a desperation that frightened and excited her.

Far too soon, he released her. “Be careful,” he said, kissing her once more before letting her go.

Cilla nodded and sprinted for the train, though every ounce of her being screamed at her to turn around and jump back into his arms. Maybe they could find another way to fight Frank. Maybe they could work around their situation with Brynne. Maybe they really could find a way to be together and live happily ever after.

By the time she’d reached the third “maybe,” she’d reached the train and the time for maybes was over.

Chapter Eighteen

The moment the train came to a stop, Cilla ran over, thankful for the dark night, and crawled beneath the second to last car. Aside from the passenger cars, there were two baggage cars. She couldn’t be 100 percent sure which was the right one. So she’d have to take them both.

She found a spot where several thin metal bars crisscrossed the undercarriage of the train and wedged herself as close to the front of the car as she could get. The long wedge of metal that formed the coupling link for the car jutted out in front of her. She’d have to shimmy along underneath it until she reached the pin, and then pull it out to disconnect the baggage cars from the others. And hopefully not lose her grip in the process. Or there wouldn’t be enough left of her to mourn over.

After what seemed an eternity, the train whistled and lurched forward. Cilla forced herself to loosen her grip a little, or she’d end up with cramped and useless hands. As soon as the train left the faint light of the station and began to pick up speed, Cilla closed her eyes and began to count.

Sixty seconds in a minute. Sixty minutes in an hour. Two hours to Bethany Ridge. One hour until it was time to leave her little nest. The others were supposed to meet her about halfway there. Three thousand six hundred seconds. The timing wouldn’t be exact, of course, but it was the best they could do under the circumstances. Cilla took a deep breath and forced herself to count nice and steady.

One…two…three…four…

When she reached three thousand, or as close to it as she could figure—she’d nearly lost count once or twice—she opened her eyes and started to position herself to crawl the longest three yards of her life.

They had practiced with the horse and wagon. With the wagon motionless, of course, she’d had no problem, though she tended to let her body hang too low. Then she’d moved up to Leo pushing the wagon. And then they’d tried it with the horse. She’d made it successfully from one end of the wagon to the other almost every time. She’d fallen once, but had managed to avoid the wheels. Which meant it had been painful but not fatal, though her ears were still ringing from the tongue lashing Brynne had given her.

If she fell now, though—it wouldn’t be as pretty.

Cilla forced herself to move, hugging her body to the framework of the train as much as she could. She refused to think of the tracks whizzing by beneath her. She thought of nothing but placing one hand in front of the other, inching her legs up, repeating. She kept up the steady count of seconds in her head, just so she’d have something to concentrate on other than what would happen if she lost her grip.

Three thousand three hundred and eighty-seven…shimmy forward…three thousand three hundred and eighty-eight…almost there…three thousand three hundred eighty-nine…

Finally, she made it to the link and pin that held the baggage car to the car in front of it. Cilla risked a glance up, craning her head to look at the light spilling from the passenger car just ahead.

It was a mistake.

Her head swam, the swaying light from the lantern near the back door, along with the jolting of the train and the speed of the blurry scenery flashing by her in the night, wreaking havoc with her senses. She wrapped her body around the coupling for all she was worth.

Focus!

Hugging the coupling link wasn’t the smartest thing in the world to do either. The link and pin weren’t always the sturdiest of couplings and the cars had a tendency to shift while they were moving. If something went wrong, there was a good chance she’d be crushed between the cars and get run over by the train. A lovely thought.

Cilla scooted forward a tad more and finally saw the pin just above her. She reached up and grasped it, pulling with all her might.

It didn’t budge. She’d known it wouldn’t be easy, but she couldn’t help feeling a frantic disappointment anyway.

She tried again. And again. The third time she pulled, she felt it give way a bit. Then a bit more.

“Come on,” she muttered, her jaw clenched so tightly it began to ache. “Come on!”

A few more tugs and the pin moved. Cilla renewed her grip, closed her eyes, and pulled with everything she had—a little too much.

When the pin released, Cilla’s arm flew out, and for a second, the pin in her hand hit the ground, jarring her arm. She hugged the coupling tighter with her other arm and tossed the pin out to the side, hoping it would get lost in the shrubbery somewhere. With any luck, the crew wouldn’t have the right-sized spare on board and the baggage cars would be stranded for a while.

Cilla wrapped her arm around the coupling again and breathed a huge sigh of relief as the cars started to lose their momentum. Her muscles were beginning to twitch and quiver, and when the cars finally slowed to a stop, she dropped gratefully to the ground.

She couldn’t rest for long though. Whoever was in the baggage car had noticed that the train was no longer moving and was kicking up a terrible ruckus.

Time for step two.

…

“Here it comes!” Lucy said, her horse prancing beneath her as it picked up on her excitement.

Leo didn’t share her enthusiasm. His gut was twisted into a knot so tight he could barely breathe.

Was she still beneath the train? Or had she fallen and been crushed by the massive iron wheels?

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to banish that thought from his head. Priscilla Richardson was a stubborn, headstrong, determined, spitfire of girl who wouldn’t let a little thing like a several-ton locomotive barreling across the landscape get in the way of what she wanted.

She was fine. She had to be.

The train pulled even with where they waited in the dark, close enough for them to see it, but far enough away that the passengers would never be able to spot them. And far enough away that he couldn’t see if the woman whom he suspected might just be the love of his life was still clinging to the underbelly of the iron beast rumbling past.

Leo turned his horse, ready to ride after it. He watched the cars go by. The locomotive. The passenger cars.

And two baggage cars, still attached.

A jolt of pure terror and pain struck him so fiercely he had to suck in a breath. It didn’t mean anything that the cars were still attached. The timing hadn’t been precise. It wasn’t as if she had a pocket watch strapped there with her.

He kicked his horse into a gallop and thundered after the train, barely noticing if Lucy was following along behind him. They rode for several minutes. It had to be soon. If she was still there and could still pull the pin, it had to be soon. His horse was tiring. And he was sure Cilla would be too.

The train pulled ahead of them. The horses wouldn’t be able to keep up much longer. Leo resisted the almost overwhelming urge to move closer, to pull up alongside the train and make sure Cilla was all right. But they had to stick to the plan: keep their distance until the cars were disconnected and well separated from the rest of the train. Alerting those on the train to their presence wouldn’t do Cilla any good.

The train was now far enough ahead of them that Leo was having a hard time seeing it clearly. When they came upon a copse of trees, he cursed, forced to slow his pace as they made their way through. He turned to be sure Lucy was keeping up. She was right on his tail, concern breaking through the exhilaration on her face.

The trees thinned out and Leo spurred his horse again, the guilt he felt for driving the animal so hard eclipsed by his growing panic for Cilla. In the distance, he could just make out the baggage cars of the train. He couldn’t be sure but—yes! It looked as though they were slowing down while the rest of the train pulled ahead!

He wasn’t relieved yet—wouldn’t be until she was safe on the ground. But the vice around his chest eased up a hair. Leo guided his horse up a small hill, irritated at having to go a little out of his way, though the higher ground gave him a greater vantage point to view the train.

The baggage cars had come to a complete stop while the rest of the train continued on its way through the night, unaware as yet that it had lost part of its load. Lucy reined in beside him and gave him a relieved smile. She turned to gallop down the hill, eager to complete the next phase of their plan: disarm whoever might be on guard and get the gold.

“Wait!” Leo whispered, grabbing for Lucy’s bridle.

There was movement in the dark, a single figure creeping around to the back entrance of the car.

Cilla!

His heart pounded, adrenaline rushing through his veins with such force he nearly had to bite his tongue to keep from hollering out to her.

That amazing, mule-headed woman had actually pulled it off!

Lucy had spotted her as well and turned to him with a huge smile. “She made it!”

“Let’s go help her finish the job,” Leo said, returning her smile.

But before they could signal the horses to move, the side doors of both cars opened, spilling lantern light into the dark night. A dozen men poured from each car, each armed and ready. The men surrounded the lone figure in black.

“No!” Lucy sobbed.

She leaned forward but Leo kept a tight hold of her bridle, though it took everything in him not to race down the hill to Cilla’s rescue.

“We can’t, Lucy.”

“What?” she rounded on him. “We can’t just leave her there! We have to go help her!”

“We can’t help her now. We’re outnumbered. If we go in now, we’ll just end up captured ourselves and then who will help her?”

Tears were streaming down Lucy’s face. Leo knew exactly how she felt. Rage and despair warred in him and if he hadn’t had to make sure Lucy stayed safe as well, he would have ridden down into the middle of those men and taken out as many as he could. But Cilla would never forgive him if he put Lucy in danger. Even if it meant leaving her behind.

Leo looked back down the hill at the scene unfolding before him. Cilla was on her knees, her hands behind her head. One man detached himself from the rest of the group and strutted toward her. He reached out and pulled the bandana from her face. Even from a distance, Leo could see the smile splitting his face. He gestured to one of his men, who hurried over to Cilla and tied her hands behind her back. After he’d secured her and removed all the weapons he could find on her, he melted back into the crowd.

Frank took off his glove, reached his hand back, and cuffed Cilla so hard she flew backward. With her hands tied, she had no way to brace herself and her head bounced against the ground.

Only Lucy’s presence by his side kept him from racing down that hill. Only the thought of what would happen to all three of them, and to Brynne and her baby at home if he and Lucy were captured as well, kept him from howling his fury and pain into the night as he watched Frank’s men haul Cilla into the baggage car with them.

A whistle sounded faintly in the distance. The conductor had finally noticed the baggage cars were no longer attached and must be coming back to retrieve them. They needed to go.

“Come on,” he said, his voice so thick with emotion he almost didn’t recognize it.

“We can’t just leave her,” Lucy said again.

“We have to for now. But I promise you, we will get her back.”

“Swear it.” Lucy turned to him with a ferocity that almost frightened him. “Swear to me that we’ll get her back.”

“I swear it on my soul. I will get her back.”

Lucy held his gaze for a moment longer, and then the fight went out of her. Then Leo did the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life. Harder than burying his brother. Harder than waiting helpless while Brynne gave birth to his niece. Harder than letting Cilla crawl beneath that train.

He turned his horse, making sure Lucy was at his side, and rode away from the woman he loved.

Chapter Nineteen

Cilla pulled herself up and spat blood out of her mouth. Frank seemed determined to beat information out of her about Blood Blade, whether she knew anything or not. What was truly ironic was that he’d never believe the truth. He’d never in a million years believe that the little sisters he despised were the ones behind the bandit he hated so much.

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said, his breath leaving his lungs in huge bursts of pent-up anger. “Who is Blood Blade and where can I find him?”

“You keep saying you’re only going to ask one more time, and then you ask again. It’s getting tiresome.”

Cilla knew she was taking her life into her hands mouthing off to him, but she couldn’t help herself. He was ridiculously easy to needle. And he deserved it. Besides, she’d told him repeatedly who Blood Blade really was. There wasn’t much more she could say.

He slapped her again, but it had lost a bit of its sting. Maybe he was getting tired. She hoped so. She didn’t know how much more abuse her face could take.

Her one comfort was that she had been the only one captured that night. She’d waited, first on the train, then in her cell in town, for Frank to bring the others in. But he never did. They’d gotten away.

There had been a part of her that had looked toward that darkened hill in the distance and hoped that Leo would ride in and save her. She wasn’t crazy. She didn’t want to be Frank’s prisoner. But the logical, realistic part of her knew that Leo had made the right choice, the one she really wanted him to make. He’d kept Lucy from harm. If someone was going to be the scapegoat for all of Blood Blade’s deeds, it might as well be the one who had invented him in the first place.

Frank squatted down so he could look into her eyes. “Someone is going to pay. I know you haven’t been doing this all on your own. Someone is helping you. Someone is calling the shots. All you have to do is tell me who it is, and you’ll be home with your sisters. I won’t hold an impressionable little girl responsible for the actions of an outlaw. But you have to tell me who he is first. If you don’t…” He stood and moved away from her, his hand caressing the gun strapped to his hip. “Like I said, someone is going to pay. Even the town is on my side now. They’ve had enough of Blood Blade ruining their lives.”

Cilla shook her head, trying to keep back the hundreds of arguments she wanted to throw in his face. It wouldn’t do any good to point out that Frank was the one who was ruining the townspeople’s lives. And it would likely just get her hit again. She might be strong and brave, but she was tired of being hit.

“I’ve already told you, Frank. I am Blood Blade. I am the one who has been riding the raids. I’m the one who’s been calling the shots. I’m the one you caught trying to steal your shipment of gold. There is no one else to blame.”

Frank shook his head and strode to the cell door. “If that’s the way you want to play it, fine. Your choice.” He hollered for his deputy to let him out and then turned back to Cilla. “You’re gonna hang, you know? Blood Blade has been robbing and stealing for years, and now, not only has he been out killing decent folks, but he’s destroyed the well-being of the town I’ve worked so hard to save. He sent you out to steal from the very hand that was trying to feed you. And killed another innocent bystander to boot.”

“What are you talking about, Frank?”

But Frank just smiled and walked away. The deputy slammed the door in her face before Cilla could get too far. She gripped the bars and pressed her face against them, trying to keep Frank in her sights.

“Frank! What are you talking about? Who’s been killed?”

Only his laugh answered her.

Her trial was the worst kind of joke. Frank hauled her into the middle of the town and proclaimed that since she’d confessed, and since her crimes had been committed against the people of the town, the people of the town had the right to judge her. And he made sure they judged her harshly.

He stood her up on the walkway in front of the sheriff’s office, her hands bound with rope because the standard handcuffs Frank had were too large for her slender wrists. Cilla looked out over the crowd, her heart dropping at the angry and accusing eyes staring back at her. A few were sympathetic. But not many.

But it was one particular set of eyes that held her attention. Eyes the color of warm chocolate. Eyes that darkened as they focused on her split lip, swollen eyes, and what she was sure were numerous bruises coloring her skin. Eyes that stared back into hers with an intensity that made her head swim. Part of her was happy Leo was there. The part of her that always felt better, safer, complete, when he was near. The other part, the logical part, wanted him as far from her as possible. Being associated with her could only bring him harm.

“Go,” she mouthed to him, her eyes pleading with him to get away to safety.

His lips twitched in a humorless smile. He shook his head.

Frank stepped in front of her, cutting off her view of Leo.

“People of Bethany Ridge! It pains me to have to inform you that the notorious bandit Blood Blade is none other than my very own sister, Priscilla Richardson.”

There were gasps and murmurs through the crowd. Exclamations of disbelief.

“She’s confessed! She admits she is the bandit! Though her confession was hardly needed since we caught her red-handed, attempting to steal a shipment of gold that I was bringing into town. Gold that was meant to be used to create jobs and better this town.”

More murmurs, more surprise and disbelief. And more anger.

“I know things have been hard. And I know many have questioned the necessity of the protection squads and the fees I’ve been forced to levy against you. But it was all for a purpose. That gold was going to be used for building supplies and payroll—to pay whoever wanted a job to build a new schoolhouse for the town.”

This time the murmurs were stronger, outbursts of surprise, hope.

“I’d even hired a bona fide teacher! One that had a fancy degree from one of them colleges back east!” He raised his hand to quiet the crowd and pressed on. “I’m very sorry to inform you that not only has the gold disappeared, but this despicable bandit, someone we knew and loved as our own, took the innocent life of Miss Angela Boxler, the woman who had traveled all the way from Baltimore to educate our children.”

There was a collective gasp and then silence. Dead silence.

Cilla’s heart dropped into her gut as she looked from face to face. A few seemed unsure. But far too few. Many—most—fairly seethed with anger. When the murmurs began again, it was obvious the tide had turned against her. And then came a voice from the back. Cilla didn’t know who it was; didn’t want to know, really. Soon enough, others took up his call.

“Hang her!”

The call for Cilla’s neck grew stronger and louder. Cilla’s hope and faith in her friends, in those she had risked her life to help and provide for, dissipated with every demand for her life. She was a fighter, always had been. But she didn’t know how to fight against this.

“No!”

Leo pushed his way through the crowd until he stood just in front of the sheriff’s steps. He turned to face the crowd.

“You should be ashamed! All of you! Sheriff Richardson has no proof of any of this. He tells you that this poor young woman is Blood Blade, a notorious bandit who started riding these parts back when she was no more than girl, and you believe him? And even if she was, Blood Blade has helped almost every single person in this town at one time or another. Kept food in your mouths, kept your farms or your shops running, gave you enough to keep the sheriff and his men off your backs!”

“Yes!” Frank stepped up, fury mottling his face a deep purple. “And then Blood Blade killed young Bobby Williams, and the Hudner family, and their own ranch hand. And now the school teacher!”

“No one has ever seen this schoolteacher, Frank. It’s your word against hers. No one saw the gold either! How do we know it even existed? If you caught her red-handed, then that would mean she wasn’t able to get away with it. So where is it?”

There were a few exclamations of agreement that rippled through the crowd. Cilla watched as Frank’s eyes darted around. Then he lifted his hand and motioned someone forward.

“I wanted to keep the worst of this from you. But since you insist on evidence—here you are!”

Two of his men came forward carrying a body wrapped in a sheet. Blood had soaked through where the chest was. They laid the petite form at Frank’s feet.

Cilla closed her eyes, the last of her hope disappearing. Frank had done it again. He’d murdered another innocent person, to get at her, to frame her.

Enough. It was enough.

The crowd went wild, renewed shouts of “hang her!” rang through the town square. Leo looked around frantically, but Cilla knew it was no use. Frank had finally done it. He had put the nail in her coffin with that poor woman’s body. Whatever allies she’d had, she’d just lost. And Frank knew it. He looked at her and smiled and her blood ran like ice through her veins. He wasn’t done yet. Dear God, what else could he do?

“You asked about the gold, Mr. Forrester? Well, you are quite correct. If we caught her red-handed, then where is it? The only possible explanation is that she had an accomplice, someone who got the gold out but wasn’t able to save her. In fact, we know that she has an accomplice! The witnesses and victims of Blood Blade’s raids said there were always two bandits. We have one. But where is the other?”

Frank turned his gaze on Leo, and Cilla’s entire body went numb with horror.

No. Oh no.

“You seem very determined to prove her innocence, Mr. Forrester. Perhaps, it is you who is Blood Blade after all, and my poor sister here is merely your accomplice. That doesn’t absolve her, naturally. It is just that she be punished for her part in Blood Blade’s crimes. But we know she didn’t work alone. You are a relative stranger in these parts. In fact, it wasn’t until after you showed up that people started to die. Perhaps you’ve been here all along, hiding behind a mask as you murdered your innocent victims!”

Frank’s words inflamed the crowd. They started pressing in on Leo, some calling for him to be hanged alongside Cilla.

She was doomed. She knew that. But she’d be damned if she let Frank take Leo down with her. Brynne and her baby needed him. Lucy needed him. And she couldn’t live in a world where he didn’t exist.

“No!” she screamed. “I am Blood Blade! It was me all along. I did it all. Mr. Forrester had no part in it.”

Frank turned to her, a surprised, but not displeased look on his face. “Well, I appreciate the confession, Priscilla, but as we’ve established, there were always two. You might be good, but even you aren’t that good.”

“It was Jake and me.”

“No!” Leo shouted, trying to push his way through the crowd to Cilla. They held him back, kept him from getting to her.

Cilla closed her eyes. She couldn’t bear to see the pain in Leo’s. But there was no way in hell she was going to let Frank get his claws on anyone else. She felt a bit sorry for tarnishing Jake’s reputation, but since no one in town really knew him and he was dead and wouldn’t care anyway, she was going to slander his good name for all it was worth in order to save his noble but stubborn-as-a-mule brother.

Leo threw off one of the men holding him. Jackson pulled his rifle back and slammed it into Leo’s gut. He dropped to his knees, gasping for breath.

“Continue, Priscilla.”

Cilla kept her head down. She couldn’t bear to look at Leo. And she knew if she looked at Frank’s smug face, she’d never be able to go through with it. She’d attack the son of a bitch first.

“It was Jake and me. We committed the robberies. Just the two of us.”

“If he was your partner, why did you kill him?”

“He was getting too greedy. He wanted a bigger share. I needed him gone.”

“And Bobby?”

Cilla swallowed the bile that rose in her throat. Every word out of her mouth burned like the flaming lies they were, but she spat them out anyway. “He knew too much.”

Cilla could hear Mrs. Williams sobbing, and she cringed.

“And the Hudner family?”

“All right! All of them! I did it all!” Cilla couldn’t take it anymore. She just wanted it over with.

“Just hang me and get it over with,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Don’t worry, dear sister. Justice will be served.”

Cilla turned and looked at him, let him see every ounce of hatred and derision she felt for him. He actually took a step back under the force of her gaze. “Yes, Frank. No matter what you do to me, someday, justice will be served.”

Frank’s mouth opened and shut a few times as he sputtered. He finally composed himself and drew himself up to his full height.

“Priscilla Richardson, I sentence you to hang for your crimes!”

The crowd roared. Leo’s protestations that Frank didn’t have the authority to sentence someone to death, that this whole sham of a trial was illegal, fell on deaf ears. The people wanted revenge. For their suffering, for the deaths of their loved ones. And Cilla had made very sure they had a scapegoat.

At least she could leave this life knowing she’d saved the man she loved. Hopefully he’d use the brains she knew had to be rattling around in his head and get her sisters and niece the hell out of Bethany Ridge.

It felt like a waste, everything they’d done to save their ranch, save their town. But as long as Brynne, Coraline, Lucy, and Leo were safe somewhere—that was all that mattered.

“Take her away!” Frank shouted.

His deputies grabbed her arms and started to haul her back into the jailhouse. Leo jumped up, knocking off the men who tried to hold him back. It took four of them to wrestle him to the ground.

Cilla’s last sight as she was dragged into the dim interior of the jailhouse was Leo on his knees in the dirt, his face streaked with dirt and tears.

Her heart shattered in a thousand pieces. He loved her.

She repeated it to herself over and over.

He loved her.

If she had to die, it wasn’t a bad thought to take to her grave.

Chapter Twenty

Leo burst through the door, startling Brynne and Lucy, who were sitting with the baby by the fire.

“Where is she?” Brynne asked. Her eyes were large in her too-pale face. She hadn’t slept since the night of the train heist when Leo and Lucy had returned home, without the gold, and without Cilla.

Leo went straight to the hidden box under one of the bunks where they kept their guns. He spoke while he dragged them out and began loading them.

“Frank has her. He’s got the town convinced that she’s Blood Blade. Told them some ridiculous story about the gold being meant to build a school for the town. And he pinned another murder on her.”

“Oh no,” Lucy murmured.

Brynne shook her head. “The town will never believe that. Even if they think she is Blood Blade, they won’t believe she hurt anyone. Blood Blade has never done anything but help those people.”

“They do believe it. There are too many bodies, the coincidences are too much. They were the ones calling for her hanging. They played right into Frank’s hands.”

“I don’t believe it,” Brynne said, slumping back into her chair. “It just doesn’t make sense. If he says he caught her stealing the gold, then how can he say it’s gone?”

“No one is paying any attention to reason. All they are seeing are dead bodies and their own suffering. And Cilla isn’t helping herself any.”

He slipped his pistols into his holsters and grabbed a rifle.

“What do you mean?” Brynne asked.

Leo paused, a white-hot poker full of guilt stabbing through his gut.

“She confessed.”

“She did what?”

Brynne and Lucy were both on their feet, their faces taut with disbelief.

“Why in the hell would she do that?” Brynne asked.

Leo forced himself to meet her eyes. “To save me.”

Brynne stared at him, her chest heaving with emotion. “Just spill it, Leo. This one line at a time bit is wearing thin.”

Leo sat and ran his hands through his hair. “I spoke up. I couldn’t let them just haul her off. I tried to point out how flimsy Frank’s case was, especially about the missing gold. Frank said that I was right, that there was no way she could have gotten away with it herself. That she must have had an accomplice.”

“Oh no.”

“He started to accuse me. Cilla jumped in, said she was Blood Blade, said it had been all her. When Frank pressed the issue, insisted that she had an accomplice, she pinned it on Jake.”

Brynne sat silent for a moment and then shook her head. “So my crazy, too-noble-for-her-own-good sister plans on taking the blame for all of it and pinned the rest on a dead man Frank can’t hurt anymore.”

“Looks that way,” Leo answered.

“Are we going to let her get away with that?” she asked, a small smile touching her lips.

Leo gave her a smile of his own. “Hell no, ma’am.”

“Then I suggest you put away your guns so we can come up with a plan that will actually work. You running in with guns blazing will only get you killed and I could really use your help.”

Leo nearly blushed, a bit embarrassed that had indeed been his plan. “Yes, ma’am.”

Brynne turned to Lucy. “Will you take the baby to Carmen?”

Lucy looked back and forth between Brynne and Leo, then nodded and scooped up Coraline.

“Come on, little one.”

Brynne’s eyes followed them as they left the room. As soon as they were alone, she turned back to Leo. He didn’t meet her eyes. He knew what she was going to ask and he so did not want to have this conversation. Didn’t seem like he’d get much choice in the matter, though. If it was one thing the Richardson sisters all had in common, it was a stubborn streak that would try the patience of an angel.

“So. Cilla is willing to stick her neck in a noose in order to save you. You know any reason why she’d do that?”

Leo kept his gaze on his guns, rubbing them down, checking parts that didn’t need to be checked.

“Doesn’t really matter. We aren’t going to let her do it.”

“No. We aren’t.”

Brynne continued to stare at him, her eyes boring into him until it took every ounce of willpower he had not to squirm. Finally, he put down the gun he was checking and stood up.

“Why don’t you just tell me what it is I’m supposed to say so we can get on with the plan to get Cilla out of there.”

Brynne smiled at him. “You’re in love with her, aren’t you? And she’s in love with you.”

Hearing it out loud sent a shard of pain straight through Leo’s heart.

“It doesn’t matter.”

Brynne’s eyebrows shot up. “Of course it matters! Why wouldn’t it?”

Leo frowned. Brynne really did look confused. As if this conversation wasn’t uncomfortable enough. Was he really going to have to spell it out for her?

Apparently, he was. “Because I’m a married man.”

Now it was Brynne’s turn to frown. It seemed to take a minute for his meaning to sink in. Leo knew the exact moment when it did, because her previously pale face was suddenly flooded with color, her mouth a little O of shock and dismay.

“You can’t be serious! Leo, we aren’t married.”

“I beg to differ. We most certainly are.”

“We are not! That ridiculous sham we went through was nothing more than that. None of us ever meant it to be permanent. I don’t see what has changed.”

“Everything has changed. Jake is dead. He’s never coming back.”

Brynne’s face hardened.

“I’m aware of that, Leo.”

“With Jake gone, you and the baby need someone. And we are already technically married. It stands to reason—”

“It stands to reason what? That I should stay married to a man who is in love with my sister just so I don’t have to be alone?”

Okay, put that way it didn’t seem as reasonable. But still…

“I would never have said anything. And neither would Cilla.”

“Wonderful, so I would have just spent my life in blissful ignorance while the two of you made martyrs of yourselves for my benefit. Very romantic.”

Leo rubbed a hand over his face. “This isn’t coming out right.”

Brynne then took his hands in her own.

“Leo,” she said, her face taking on that patient, motherly look he’d seen women get when they were trying to explain something to their offspring, “Do you really think any of us will be better off if you and I stayed married?”

Leo started to answer, but she held up a hand.

“I know you will keep an eye on me and Coraline. I know you will always be there if we need you, as a brother-in-law and uncle. That is more than enough. You don’t need to sacrifice your life’s happiness, or Cilla’s, in order to take care of me. For one thing, I don’t need anyone to take care of me. I’m more than capable of taking care of myself and my daughter. If I need help, I’ll ask.

“For another, I have no intention of getting married again. Ever. Certainly not to my dead husband’s brother and most certainly not when he is in love with my sister. That is just so sad and wrong I don’t have the energy to even try to unravel it.”

She put her hand on Leo’s cheek and smiled up at him.

“I appreciate the offer. I really do. But no offense—as soon as we rescue my mule-headed sister, I am annulling your ass.”

That startled a laugh out of him. He still felt he should argue a bit more, and he had no doubt Cilla would have something to say on the matter, but he couldn’t help but feel relieved. He leaned down and hugged her.

She let him hold her for a second and then pulled away.

“Now that that insanity is out of the way, let’s figure out how to get Cilla out of this mess.”

…

Leo waited just outside town, hidden in the dirt in the little hidey hole he’d dug the night before. Miguel would have his horse waiting for him at the rendezvous point. Leo just prayed he and Cilla would make it that far.

He tried to calm down, but the chances of this rescue working were slim. And Cilla’s life wasn’t the only one on the line anymore. They needed everyone to pull this off. Which meant everyone was in danger.

They’d spent most of the day previous packing and preparing. Cilla wouldn’t be able to come back to the ranch. In fact, none of them would be coming back. But the baby was still too young to travel far. Carmen had gone on ahead with Coraline, traveling to the next town by wagon. Brynne and Miguel would meet up with them there while Leo, Lucy, and Cilla would get over the state’s border just as fast as their horses could carry them.

With luck, Frank would leave Brynne and the baby alone and would instead focus on following Cilla’s trail. Leo was actually hopeful that Frank would ignore everyone altogether. After all, everything he’d done had been to get his hands on the ranch, which they were now pretty much handing over to him. Leo knew Cilla would be sorry to let it go, but her life, their lives, were much more important than any piece of land.

It was obvious Frank expected them to show up. He’d wasted no time in carrying out Cilla’s execution. The moment her sham of a trial had been over, he’d sentenced her to die—the next day. Which hadn’t given them much time to plan Cilla’s escape.

When all was said and done, their plan was simple. Ride in. Grab Cilla. Ride out. With a few distractions to get everyone’s attention off the main show.

The sky was beginning to lighten, rays of orange peeking out above the mountain range in the distance. It was time. Leo crept closer.

The town didn’t have a gallows, and Frank hadn’t wanted to wait for one to be built. But there was a large grove of trees on the south end of town: trees with high, sturdy branches that would do for a hanging. Leo blessed Frank’s impatience. The copse provided plenty of cover for him, though he kept his eyes peeled. He knew Frank would have his men on the lookout so he couldn’t get too close yet.

Leo fidgeted, readjusting the bow and arrow hanging from his shoulder for the thousandth time. The bow was definitely not his weapon, but he needed it today. And he needed his aim to be true.

The light grew stronger in the sky and he crept out of the small clearing where he’d been hiding for most of the night. A few people were starting to gather near the tree that would be used. Leo was careful to stay out of sight, keeping his eyes peeled for any men Frank might have stationed around.

When he got as close as he dared, he found a spot behind a large tree and hunkered down again. He drew an arrow from the quiver and got ready. This would have to be timed perfectly. Lucy, Brynne, and Miguel were stationed at intervals around town, waiting for his signal.

The crowd grew larger. More animated.

Leo forced himself to breathe nice and steady. Forced himself to think only about the immediate task at hand, not the thousands of things that could go wrong.

And then the people waiting by the tree turned, looked at something, someone. Their shouts grew louder.

Leo tightened his grip on the bow and reached into his pocket for a match. He put it between his teeth and notched the specially outfitted arrow to the string. And waited.

Frank appeared, his hand grasped tight around Cilla’s arm. Her hands were bound, but in front of her, not behind. And her feet were not tied, which was handy. They’d be able to run faster if Leo wasn’t carrying her. Though if they were lucky, Cilla would be placed on top of a horse, rather than a wagon or stool.

Frank led her to the tree, turned to the crowd, and started to spew the same misleading manure he’d fed the townspeople the previous day. Leo gripped the bow so tightly his knuckles turned white and he had to relax his jaw so he wouldn’t snap the fragile wood of his match. Frank gestured to one of his men, who brought a stool over.

Shit. Almost time. Almost. Steady. Steady.

He reached for the match between his teeth. A twig snapped behind him and Leo froze. Then came the unmistakable sound of a hammer being drawn back on a gun. Leo laid the arrow on the ground, but kept hold of the bow as he slowly stood.

“Drop the bow, mister.”

Leo bent forward a bit, as if he was going to lay the bow on the ground. He caught sight of Jackson standing behind him. Frank’s goon had his gun trained on Leo, but it wavered. The man was nervous. Leo tightened his grip on the bow. He’d only get one shot at this.

He spun, swinging his bow as hard as he could. The bow connected with enough force that it reverberated up Leo’s arm and knocked Jackson on his butt. Unfortunately, the moron kept hold of his gun. Leo dove for the ground as the gun fired.

Damn it!

He scrambled to his feet and grabbed his bow, bringing it down on Jackson’s head just as hard as he could. Jackson’s eyes rolled back in his head. Leo spun to grab his arrow and ran toward Cilla, making sure as many people saw him as possible.

The crowd had heard the shot and were scattering. Shouts of “It’s Blood Blade!” rang through the streets and Leo smiled behind his black bandana. He pulled his hat with its red poppies tucked in the band a little further over his eyes. He did make a pretty convincing Blood Blade, if he did say so himself. More important, having Blood Blade show up would certainly sow a little doubt as to Cilla being the notorious bandit.

But Frank wasn’t going to let that stop him. Several men were heading in Leo’s direction. Frank was wrestling a now-fighting Cilla up onto the stool, trying to get the noose around her neck at the same time. Cilla head-butted him and Frank stumbled backward. She turned and ran after the men who were coming at him.

“That’s my girl,” Leo mumbled. He skidded to a halt, striking the match and lighting the end of his arrow. The fuse-like tip began to hiss and spit and Leo quickly notched the arrow, aimed for the air above Frank’s head, and let it loose.

Frank pulled himself up and shook his head just as the arrow exploded above him in a shower of sparks with a boom so loud it rattled the windows of the nearby shops. Frank dove for the ground, as did the townspeople who were still gathered by the tree. Leo had only a second to worry why the others hadn’t followed through with their assignments before the first of Frank’s men was upon him.

He swung out, clocking the man on the chin. A second joined them, landed a fist in Leo’s gut before he could dodge out of the way. If the third man got there before Leo could take out at least one of the others, he was done for. He dodged a hit and landed one of his own, knocking out one of his assailants with a lucky punch to the face. And then Cilla was there, jumping onto the back of the third man and draping her bound hands around his neck. She twisted until his neck was in the crook of her arm and then squeezed. The man’s face turned red, then purple, until he finally sank to his knees.

The last man swung, missed, and geared up for a second swing. Leo aimed another punch, but Cilla got there first, cracking Leo’s bow over the man’s head and dropping him in a heap at Leo’s feet.

An ear-splitting explosion rocked the town. Leo and Cilla turned just as another explosion hit, blowing out the windows of the jailhouse and spraying bricks and timber into the town’s streets.

Leo turned to her with a smile. “Miguel and Brynne.”

Cilla laughed, the sound turning into a squeak of surprise as another explosion sounded, this one farther off. She turned to Leo questioningly.

“That would be Lucy blowing up the abandoned hotel at the other edge of town.”

“The hotel?”

“It’s separated a bit from the rest of the town. Which makes it a perfect distraction. It keeps the people fighting fires at opposite ends of town and ensures the least amount of casualties. In fact, if all goes according to plan, no one gets hurt. Unless we stick around any longer, in which case we do.”

“Agreed.” She grinned at him and held her hands out. Leo withdrew the knife he kept strapped to his thigh and sliced through the rope binding her wrists.

“Thanks. Now let’s get the hell out of here.”

“Good idea,” he said, smiling.

Chapter Twenty-one

Cilla and Leo found the horse where Miguel had tied her up. Leo mounted and pulled Cilla up behind him.

“Hold on!”

Cilla wrapped her arms around his waist, reveling in the chance to hold him close. She hadn’t believed her eyes when she’d seen him running toward her, dressed all in black with Blood Blade’s hat on his head. She knew their actions today would have their consequences, but for now, she was just thankful she wasn’t dangling at the end of a noose.

She’d been prepared to die to keep Leo and her sisters safe, but being prepared and actually going through with it were two very different things. She had never been as terrified as she had been when that rope had slipped over her head. She would have let it happen, but she was extremely grateful her rescue posse had shown up. Speaking of—

“Where are the others?” she asked, shouting near Leo’s ear so he’d hear her over the pounding of the horse’s hooves.

“Brynne is meeting Carmen and the baby in Bishop Hill. Lucy and Miguel are going to meet us at the mine. We’ve got some supplies stashed there. Then we’ll get our tails over the border as fast as we can.”

“The ranch—”

Leo put his hand over Cilla’s where it clung to his waist and squeezed. She’d known deep down that when she’d given herself up she’d never see the ranch again. And she knew logically they couldn’t go back there now. It was the first place Frank would look. But still…the thought of never seeing her home again, losing what they’d fought so hard to keep, stung worse than a riled-up hornet.

She laid her head against Leo’s back and hung on. Tried not to think of what she was losing. Thought instead of what she’d gained. She was alive. She had the man she loved in her arms. He was technically married to her sister, yes, but…Cilla sighed. But nothing. He wasn’t hers. Brynne needed him. But for now, for this moment, she could wrap her arms around him and pretend that she could keep him.

The ride was over far too soon. Leo reined the horse in and jumped down, reaching up to help Cilla. She didn’t need his help getting off the horse, but she accepted it anyway. He wrapped his hands around her waist and lowered her down, letting her slide down the length of his body, inch by burning inch, until her toes reached the ground. He didn’t let go. Neither did she. They stayed pressed together, their breath mingling as Leo stared into her eyes. Cilla never wanted this moment to end. Never wanted to let him go.

Leo bent his head to hers and Cilla closed her eyes.

The snort of a nearby horse made Cilla jump and she backed away from Leo, her heart drowning in guilt and pain.

She looked behind Leo and saw Miguel’s horse tethered to a tree near the entrance to the mine, along with Maynard. Cilla went to her horse and patted his head, murmuring to him for a moment. Then she noticed that Lucy’s horse was missing. Panic filled Cilla and she spun to look at Leo, her alarm ratcheting up a notch when she caught his own concerned expression.

Cilla ran partway into the mine and shouted for Miguel. After a moment, he appeared.

“Ah, mija, you terrified this old man!” He pulled her into a quick hug.

“Miguel, where is Lucy? Is she with you?”

Miguel frowned. “No. I was hoping she was with you.”

Cilla’s stomach sank right down to her toes. “Brynne?”

“I saw her safely on her way. As soon as we blew the jailhouse, I had her on her horse and riding out of town. She wasn’t followed.”

A tiny ray of relief broke through Cilla’s despair. At least one of her sisters was safe. But Lucy, her sweet little Lucy. What had become of her?

Cilla straightened and pulled herself together. She turned and grasped the pommel of the saddle but Leo stopped her before she could mount.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I’m going to get my sister.”

“You don’t know that Frank has her.”

Cilla’s mouth dropped open. She wasn’t even going to acknowledge the stupidity of that remark.

“I mean it, Cilla. She might have doubled back a few times to make sure she wasn’t being followed. She isn’t late enough to assume that she’s been taken.”

“Then we’ll go find her and hurry her along.”

“We don’t know which route she took to get here. If her plans changed, she might not be on the trail we are expecting and we could miss her altogether. The best thing to do is to stay here and wait.”

Cilla looked at him, pleading with him to understand.

He cupped her cheek in his hand. “We all just risked our necks to save yours. Riding back in before we know all the facts is a great way to get captured again and a piss-poor way of thanking us for riding in to save your sorry butt.”

That startled a mirthless laugh out of her. He had a point, but still…

“Let’s give her an hour. If she isn’t here by then, we’ll go find her.”

Cilla hesitated. Patience wasn’t exactly her strong suit. Finally, she nodded. “All right. One hour.”

It was the longest hour of her life. And when it was up, Lucy still hadn’t arrived.

“Let’s go,” Leo said.

Cilla was on her horse almost before he’d finished speaking.

“Miguel, will you stay here in case she shows up?”

“Of course. You just take care of yourself and get back here safe and sound.”

“I’ll do my best,” Cilla said, trying to make her voice light.

But she very much feared that if Frank had gotten a hold of Lucy, things weren’t going to end well for any of them.

She and Leo rode out toward the ranch. If Lucy had gotten lost or hurt, she might have gone there first. And if Frank had her—well, it was the most likely place he’d leave a message for them.

They rode up to the ranch just as the sun reached the highest point in the sky. With the clear, blue sky soaring above it, the ranch looked about as idyllic as could be. But any number of horrible things could be waiting for them once they got inside.

Lucy’s horse was tethered near the porch of the burned house. No others were in sight, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Cilla and Leo kept their eyes peeled. Cilla’s skin tingled. It was a trap, she knew it. But if there was even a possibility that Lucy was inside, she’d willingly walk right into it.

Leo obviously felt the same way. He dismounted, his hand hovering near his gun as he surveyed the property. The front door was open.

Cilla and Leo looked at each other, pulled their guns, and went inside.

Lucy sat tied to a chair near where the hearth had been, her mouth gagged. One of Frank’s men stood off to the side, his gun leveled at the two of them. Frank stood beside Lucy, his gun pointed right at her head. It took everything Cilla had not to shoot Frank right in his smug, smiling face. And he knew it.

He put the gun against Lucy’s head and Cilla froze.

“On the floor,” he said, looking at the guns that were still pointed at him.

Cilla and Leo slowly bent and placed their guns on the floor, raising their hands after they had done so. Two of Frank’s men that Cilla hadn’t even noticed moved the weapons beyond their reach and stood guard over them.

Sweet mercy, she needed to keep her wits about her! Then again, it had been a very long day. And she was ready for it to be over with.

“What do you want, Frank?”

“Always so direct. Not a becoming trait in a woman.”

“You’d rather I was indirect?”

“I’d rather you keep your mouth shut and learn your place.”

Normally, Cilla would have popped off with some nasty retort, but with Frank’s gun trained on her baby sister’s head, Cilla thought it best to keep her sarcasm to herself.

“What do you want?” she asked again.

“The gold.”

“What gold?” Cilla asked, genuinely confused.

“Don’t give me that! You’ve been living on this property your whole life. I know you know where Pa’s mine is.”

“There’s no gold in that mine, Frank. It’s abandoned. Daddy stopped mining there a couple years before he died. He never found anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” Frank pulled a nugget the size of a toddler’s fist out of his pocket. “This came from Pa’s mine. I heard him bragging about it to some of the boys at the saloon one night. I asked him to show it to me. He refused. But I got it anyway.”

“You?” Cilla asked, surprised that she could still be surprised at Frank’s depravity. “You were the one who killed our father, robbed him, and left him to rot? What kind of a man are you?”

Leo stepped a little closer to her and Frank aimed his gun in Leo’s direction as he shook his head. Leo stopped and Frank turned his attention back to Cilla.

“I’m the kind of man who always gets what he wants and who isn’t going to let a couple of silly girls and their pet ranch hand get in the way. Now. You will take me to Pa’s mine, or I’ll put a hole through Lucy’s pretty little head.”

Cilla didn’t even need to think about it. She’d have turned over the mine even if it had been full to bursting with gold.

“I’ll take you to the mine, Frank. After you let Lucy go.”

Frank was shaking his head before the last word had left Cilla’s mouth. “I’m not as big of an idiot as you like to think me, Priscilla. I’m not going to let my only collateral run out the door before I get what I want.”

“I give you my word, Frank. You let her go, I’ll take you to the mine.”

“You take me to the mine, or there won’t be anyone to let go. I’ll put a bullet through her head right now.”

“If you do that, you’ll never find it. I’ll never tell you. You want the mine, you’d better let her go. Now.”

Frank mulled it over for a few moments, long enough that Cilla had to stiffen every muscle in her body to keep from screaming or launching herself at him.

“Deal.”

Frank gestured to one of his men, who came forward with a knife. He cut through Lucy’s ties and removed the gag from her mouth. As soon as she was free, Lucy flew across the room and into her sister’s arms.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, squeezing Cilla so hard she almost couldn’t breathe.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for.”

“This is touching,” Frank said, “but if you don’t mind, I’d like to go get my gold now.”

Cilla gave Frank the dirtiest look she could muster and hugged Lucy again. She whispered in her ear, “Go to Brynne.”

Lucy started to shake her head, but Cilla took Lucy’s face in her hands and looked into her eyes. “We’ll be fine here. If you love me, Lucy, do what I say.”

Lucy stared at Cilla, tears running down her cheeks. Finally, she nodded.

“Good girl,” Cilla said, pulling her in for one last hug.

“Enough of this. If she’s going, let her go. We have a mine to get to.”

Cilla released Lucy and pushed her toward the door. Lucy reluctantly went down the steps and mounted her horse. The rest of them watched as she rode out of the courtyard toward town. Cilla knew she’d double back and make sure she wasn’t being followed before she headed in Brynne’s direction. She’d been taught well. She’d be fine.

“Now,” Frank said, retraining his gun on Leo and Cilla. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Twenty-two

Miguel was waiting outside the mine when they reached it. He didn’t even bother to raise his gun. His anxious eyes found Cilla’s and she gave him a tiny nod. He slumped in relief for just a second before turning to face the newest threat at hand.

Frank was looking around the mine’s hidden entrance. “This is it? This is where it’s been all this time?” He laughed, as if he were a child who had played a clever trick on someone.

“Lead the way,” he said to Cilla and Leo.

Miguel made as if to follow, but Frank turned and pointed his gun at him. “You. Wait outside.”

He gestured to one of his men, who grabbed a length of rope out of his saddlebag and went toward Miguel. Frank didn’t wait, instead motioning for Cilla to lead the way into the mine.

She and Leo went in, Frank close on their heels, his other two henchmen bringing up the rear. Cilla paused just inside the tunnel to grab the lantern. Frank waited while she lit it and then shoved her forward. Leo grabbed her and held her until she was steady on her feet again.

“Move,” Frank growled.

Cilla and Leo locked eyes for just a second and Cilla tried to convey everything she felt for him. But there was no time.

She walked until she reached the opening where the mine split into separate shafts. She didn’t even hesitate before she turned and walked down the left tunnel. Leo followed, not saying a word. They were in silent agreement. They knew Frank would never let them out of that mine alive. And they were going to make sure if they didn’t leave, Frank didn’t either.

Cilla led them on down the winding tunnel, around corner after corner, until the tunnel widened into a small, dead-end chamber, roughly the size of three wagons side by side. She reached behind her and grasped Leo’s hand, squeezing it briefly. Then she blew out the flame on the lantern, plunging them into darkness.

She yanked on Leo’s hand, pulling him to the ground with her just as a gunshot went off. The rock around them gave off a faint rumbling and Frank shouted. He sounded nearby. Cilla took a chance, rolling and kicking out with her feet as she went. She connected with someone, Frank by the sound of it, who cursed as he dropped to the ground.

Another shot went off.

“Stop shooting!” Frank yelled to his goons as the rock walls groaned again.

Cilla groped on the ground for the lantern and fumbled in her pocket for a match to relight it. Judging by the scuffling and grunts of pain coming from somewhere to the right of her, Leo had found someone to scrap with. The sound of a fist connecting to a meaty body echoed through the chamber and someone fell with a thud to the ground.

“One down,” Leo said, his voice loud enough she could hear him, but not so loud she could pinpoint exactly where he was.

More scuffling sounded at her left. Cilla wanted to crawl over and help, but she didn’t want to let go of the lantern.

A grunt of pain that sounded like it came from Leo made her decide. One man was down, so the good guys and bad guys were even now. She struck the match and relit the lantern.

Leo took advantage of his opponent being momentarily blinded in the sudden flare of light to land a punch that knocked him to the ground. The coward didn’t try to get back up and fight. Instead, he scrambled to his feet and took off running, ignoring Frank’s shouts to come back. The other man quickly followed suit, mumbling something about being buried alive as he fled.

Good, Cilla thought. Two down, one jackass to go.

But Frank had other plans. He bared his teeth with a furious growl and pulled his gun, swinging it around to aim at Leo.

“No!” Cilla screamed. She launched herself at Frank, tackling him.

They crashed to the ground and Cilla grabbed for his arm, trying to wrestle the gun from him. Frank’s shot went wild, shattering chunks from the rock above their heads. This time the rumbling didn’t stop. A shower of dust and rock rained down on their heads. Cilla threw her hands up to protect her skull from the rubble that pummeled her.

She had a moment of perfect clarity—she was going to die. Her life didn’t flash before her eyes, but she saw people. The people she loved. Her parents, sharing a quiet moment in front of the fire when they thought no one was watching. Brynne, holding her baby for the first time. Lucy laughing at some inappropriate comment Cilla had made.

And Leo. More than anyone, she saw Leo. His look of surprise when she’d first pulled the blindfold from his eyes. His face, red with anger when faced with Frank. That mixture of annoyance and amusement when she refused to go along with his plans. The look of tenderness and love when he had gazed into her eyes.

The moment lasted less than a second, but each image was burned into her memory.

Then someone grasped her arm, nearly jerking it from its socket with the force of the pull.

Rocks and boulders crashed down, filling the small chamber with dust. The lantern shattered, plunging them into darkness. Leo covered Cilla with his body, shielding her as best he could from the worst of it. But she still coughed and gagged on the lungful of dust that she sucked down. She buried her face in Leo’s shirt and tried to breathe as shallowly as possible until the rumbling stopped and the dust began to settle.

They simply lay together for a moment, coughing the dirt from their lungs and reveling in the fact that they were both still alive.

“Are you okay?” Leo asked. His hands roamed over her, feeling every inch of her from her head down to her ankles. “I don’t feel anything bleeding too badly, nothing broken.”

“No, I’m fine. Some scratches. Nothing major.”

Something dripped on her neck and she reached her hand up to feel it. Her fingers came away sticky and smelling faintly of copper.

“Leo,” she said, pushing him off her so she could do her own examination. She didn’t have to search far. Her fingers touched a deep gash in his head that was running with blood.

“Leo! You’re hurt!”

She pulled her bandana from around her neck and felt her way up his face again, ignoring his hiss of pain as she did her best to bind the wound in the pitch darkness. When she’d finished, her hands did some roaming of their own.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

She felt all around his head and face, her fingers trailing down his neck and arms, her hands going over his chest and back. So far, so good. Leo had gone stock still under her ministrations, but she was too concerned that he might have some life-threatening injury somewhere to realize what that might mean. Until she ran a hand up his leg onto his thigh.

A sound somewhat like a mouse squeak escaped from his lips and he reached down to grab her hands, preventing her from exploring any farther.

“I’m fine, Cilla, I promise.” His voice had dropped an octave from its normal tone and now that she wasn’t concentrating on finding injuries, it dawned on her that she might have been a little too zealous in her search.

Blood rushed to her cheeks and she was suddenly grateful it was pitch black.

“Sorry,” she muttered, utterly mortified.

Leo chuckled and pulled her back down to his side, wrapping an arm around her. “I’m not. I enjoyed your little examination.”

Cilla lightly slapped his chest and pushed away from him.

“Did Frank make it?”

“I don’t think so,” Leo answered. “He was standing right beside you when the ceiling caved in.”

“Frank?” Cilla called out. She didn’t know if he’d answer even if he could, but she couldn’t stand the thought of him roaming around in the darkness, taking them unawares. She held her breath and listened.

Nothing. No sound. No light. No anything. Just…nothing. She shivered. It was cold in here. And so dark.

The full horror of their predicament started to sink in. “Leo,” she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice.

Apparently she didn’t do a very good job because his arms immediately went about her again. “I know,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

“What are we doing to do?”

“Do you have any more matches?”

Cilla plunged her hand into her pocket and ferreted out the little packet of matches. “Yes. I have…” she rolled her finger over them, counting. “Five. Five left.”

“Let’s use one and get a better look at what we are dealing with here. Maybe it won’t be as bad as we are thinking.”

Cilla was fairly certain it would be a lot worse, but she pulled a match out anyway and lit it.

Yep, she was right.

A solid wall of rock lay piled where the tunnel leading into the chamber had been. There was no sign of Frank. They went closer to the pile and inspected it for any cracks or holes. There were a few near the top, not large enough to squeeze a hand through, but it would at least provide a little air to their tomb.

“Great,” Cilla said. “At least we won’t suffocate.”

She laughed, the sound tinged with a note of hysteria. She hadn’t ever considered herself afraid of dark, enclosed spaces. But then again, she’d never been buried alive before.

The match burned down to her fingers and she dropped it, plunging them once again into darkness. She gasped, but Leo was already wrapping her in his arms.

“Hey, it’ll be okay.”

She buried her face in his neck and shook her head. She could feel the rock pressing in on her. The air felt thinner, and it was harder to breathe. The cold was seeping into her bones. A shiver ran up her spine and Leo pulled her even closer.

“Hey, Cilla, listen to me.”

She shook her head again. “We’re buried. No one is going to find us. My sisters and Carmen are well on their way out of here by now. Poor Miguel…who knows what happened to him. We can’t get out.”

Cilla knew she sounded like a sniveling baby. She hated it, hated the sound of her high-pitched, panicky voice, but she just couldn’t seem to pull herself together. The walls felt like they were closing in on her, the darkness pressing in until there was no air left to breathe.

“Cilla, shh,” Leo said, one hand stroking her hair. The other grasped her chin and tilted her face up. He kept murmuring to her while his lips skimmed over her face, pressing small kisses to her forehead, her eyes, trailing across her skin.

“You aren’t alone, Cilla,” he whispered against her lips. “I’m right here with you.”

His mouth met hers and Cilla melted into him with a sob. If she was going to die, at least she got to go wrapped in Leo’s arms. His lips moved over hers and her head swam. She pulled him in closer. She felt safe enveloped in his arms. Whole, complete.

And thoroughly pissed off that fate was trying to take this all away from her.

She kissed Leo one more time and then pulled away.

“We are going to get out of here.”

“That’s my girl.”

Cilla couldn’t see his smile, but she could hear it in his voice.

“Let’s use another match, find where those small holes were. See if we can make them any wider.”

Cilla lit a match and they went to the pile of rock. The hole she’d seen earlier was too high for her to reach.

“Here,” Leo said, holding his hands out to give her a boost.

Cilla put her boot in his hands and he hoisted her up. She stuck her hand in the small hole and tried pulling at the stones. Several small ones gave way, falling onto Leo below. He ducked his head.

“Sorry!”

“How about you hold me and I’ll pull at the rocks.”

Cilla laughed and dug her hand back in the crack, ignoring the pain as sharp rocks scratched her skin. The match went out but she kept on digging until she could feel Leo’s arms trembling beneath her.

“Okay, set me down.”

She held onto his shoulders as he lowered her so she felt it when he swayed a bit.

“Leo, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.”

“You are not. You’re shaking.”

She reached up to feel his face, carefully brushing her fingers against his makeshift bandage. It was soaked through.

“Sit down,” she ordered, grabbing his bandana so she could switch it with hers. She used another match so she could see what she was working with.

Her bandana was soaked through, but the bleeding had slowed down. The wound still oozed fat droplets of blood, but it was no longer gushing. Cilla didn’t want to wrap Leo’s filthy bandana around the open wound though. They had no water or anything else to clean it with.

“Hold this,” she said, thrusting the match at Leo. It had almost burned out so she needed to be quick.

She pulled her knife from its sheath around her leg and lifted her shirt, cutting a large chunk from the undershirt she wore. Leo’s eyes widened at the flash of pale skin that was revealed when she’d finished, but he didn’t make a move to touch her. Which was a good thing, because if he had she probably would have forgotten her own name, let alone his gaping wound.

The match burned out before she could rebind his head, so she did it by feel, trying to be gentle though it was difficult in the darkness.

They rested a few minutes, and then used one more match so Cilla could find some hand holds to hoist herself up to the hole she’d made. When the match burned out this time, she stayed put and Leo got out of the way of raining rubble. She managed to clear away enough rock to make a hole about the size of her head. But the surrounding stones were too large to move.

She carefully climbed back down. “Leo?”

“Over here.”

Cilla followed the sound of his voice and sank down by his side. Her body ached, and the cuts on her hands sent little shards of pain shooting up her arms to mingle with the dull throbbing from where she’d been shot. She leaned her head against Leo’s shoulder.

“Let’s rest for a bit,” he said, pulling her in against his side. He slid them down until they were lying side by side facing each other.

“I don’t think you should sleep. Carmen always says that people with head wounds should stay awake.”

Cilla didn’t voice her fear that if Leo went to sleep, he’d never wake up.

“Then talk to me,” he said, drawing a finger down her face.

“About what?”

“I don’t know. Anything. Everything.”

“All right.”

So she did. She told him all about her childhood, growing up on the ranch with Brynne and Lucy. She told him about her favorite puppy and how she used to help her father with the cattle. But she skipped over when Frank had shown up on their doorstep, a surprise from the past her father hadn’t known existed. She wanted only happy memories to fill this time.

When Leo started getting drowsy, Cilla made him talk. He told her of his childhood in Boston and how he and Jake had decided to go west. He told her of his summers at his grandparents’ ranch in Maryland, about the first time he had ridden, and fallen off, a horse. Of the amazing city of San Francisco and how he’d decided to stay there and how Jake had become a bounty hunter. And he told her of how he’d felt the first time he’d seen her.

“I knew there was something special about you,” he said, tenderly kissing her cheek.

Cilla laughed. “I guess it makes a bit of an impression when a lady bashes you on the head with the butt of her gun.”

Leo chuckled and nuzzled her neck. “I think I’ve loved you almost from that first moment.”

“Leo,” Cilla whispered, not sure she wanted him to continue. If they were going to die in that mine, she didn’t want to dwell on how things might have been between them. And if they did get out…well, she didn’t want to dwell on that either.

But Leo shook his head. “No. I’ve waited too long to say this. I love you, Priscilla Richardson. And when we get out of here, I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

Cilla held him tight, just for a moment letting his words fill her, sparking warmth and happiness in every corner of her being. “I love you, too.”

He bent to kiss her, his mouth missing hers in the dark and landing on her chin. She laughed and guided his lips to her own. She knew it couldn’t last. Knew that even if a miracle happened and they made it out of there that she needed to step aside so he could take care of Brynne and the baby. She’d have to leave. She couldn’t watch Leo married to someone else. The thought of leaving her sisters, her home, and him, shattered her heart into so many pieces she didn’t think it would ever heal.

But for now, he was hers.

“I wish I could see your face right now,” she murmured.

Leo smoothed her hair back, kissed her forehead before resting his own against hers.

“I don’t need light. I see you every time I close my eyes.” He ran a hand through her hair. “I see your thick, auburn hair flying wild about your face.” He drew his finger across her forehead. “I see your forehead crinkle when I’ve said something to annoy you.” He traced her scar. “I see the scar you try so hard to hide because you don’t know how beautiful it makes you. What an amazing mark of courage and strength it is.”

He leaned down and kissed the tear that rolled down her cheek. “I see your beautiful eyes, bright as leaves on the autumn trees, flashing with anger, shining with happiness, filling with tears you refuse to let fall.”

He kissed her. “And I see your mouth smiling when you see me, even though you try to hide it.”

Cilla smiled beneath his lips and reached up to caress his face.

He kissed her again. “I don’t need light to see you because you are my light. You always will be.”

“Leo,” she whispered, meeting his lips again.

This time when he deepened their kiss, Cilla didn’t pull away. She slipped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him, almost feverish in her desire to be closer to him. She could feel the minutes ticking by, counting down the time they had left together. Whether they found a way out of the tunnel or not…their moments were numbered. And she was done wasting them.

He threaded his fingers through her hair, parting her lips beneath his so he could explore her mouth. A small sigh escaped her, which only spurred him on. Cilla’s fingers worked at the buttons on Leo’s shirt. She wanted to feel all of him, needed to feel him against her. Leo’s lips moved from hers, kissing a trail down to her neck along the skin he exposed as he removed her shirt. When his fingers brushed against her bare skin, Cilla gasped.

Leo paused, pulled back for a moment, but Cilla finished yanking his shirt off and pulled him back to her, her lips meeting his with an intensity that surprised both of them. She was done running, done pretending she didn’t belong to this man, heart and soul. And if she was going to lose him, to death or to the life he had waiting, she’d belong to him at least once in body as well.

All other thoughts fled her mind as the rest of their clothing was quickly divested and Leo lay beside her on the small pile of garments. Cilla shuddered beneath his hands, every touch building a fire that burned away the last of her doubts. Each brush of his lips brought a new realization of how much she loved him, how much she needed him.

She couldn’t see him in the dark, but Cilla didn’t need the light to memorize every line of him, every angle. For as long as she lived, she knew she’d be able to feel the planes of his body beneath her fingertips, taste him on her lips. She knew she’d relive every touch, every kiss, every time she closed her eyes until her heart stopped beating. Leo’s whispered “I love you” as they finally became one would be forever seared into her memory.

They lay together, their bodies entwined, for what felt like an eternity. Leo pressed a gentle kiss to Cilla’s forehead as she wrapped herself around him and held him close, her heart full to bursting.

How was she ever going to let him go?

Chapter Twenty-three

“Priscilla! Leo!”

Cilla woke slowly, her exhausted body trying hard to remain unconscious. She had no idea how long they’d been in the mine. Hours. Days? She and Leo had made love over and over until his wound, their fatigue, and the damp coldness of the tunnel had finally forced them to get dressed. Eventually, they’d succumbed to their exhaustion and had fallen asleep, though Cilla had made sure to wake him every time she roused.

Each time seemed harder than the last. But they were so tired. Surely it was nothing more than that.

“Cilla? Leo?”

Cilla dragged herself up. Forced air into her lungs so she could shout. “Here! We’re in here!” She staggered to the wall of rock cutting them off from the rest of the world.

A faint beam of light shone through the hole at the top. “Help! We’re in here!”

She found her foothold and hauled herself up. She still couldn’t see anything, but the light was stronger. And so were the voices.

“We found them!”

“Lucy? Is that you?”

“Yes! We’re all here!”

“What do you mean? Who? How are you here?”

“Let’s get you out first and then we can talk.”

Cilla laughed. “Deal!”

She dropped back down and crawled over to Leo. “Leo!” She leaned down and kissed him. “Leo, they found us! Looks like we won’t die in here after all. Leo?”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even move.

“Leo,” Cilla said, shaking him more forcefully. “Leo, wake up.” Dread filled her, fear leeching into her soul. “Leo. Come on. Please. Wake up.”

Nothing.

Cilla put her head on his chest and was somewhat comforted by the slow, but seemingly steady beat of his heart. He was alive. But why wouldn’t he wake up?

She yelled again. “Lucy, tell them to hurry. Leo is hurt, he needs help.”

“We’re hurrying!”

Cilla rested her hand on Leo’s chest. Only the gentle rise and fall of his ribcage kept her from having a total breakdown. Help was on the way. They just needed to wait. Help was coming.

She could hear pickaxes striking the stone. Every now and then chunks would fall away, letting more light into the chamber. Soon there was enough for her to make out the faint outline of Leo’s face. She kissed his lips, smoothed his hair away from his face.

“Hold on just a little longer. Don’t you dare leave me now,” she whispered.

More time passed. Too much time. She wished they would just pack it with dynamite and blast the damn thing apart. The logical part of her knew that setting off an explosion would more than likely result in an even worse situation. But the snail’s pace of the axes was driving her mad.

She sat and stared at the hole in the wall, watching it slowly grow bigger, the light brighter. She stared at it so long her vision grew blurry around the edges. Maybe she should try to sleep again. She was tired. So very tired. Her limbs protested every time she tried to move, her arms and legs felt as though they were made of lead.

She lay down beside Leo again, her heart beating in time to his, as she watched the light in the wall grow larger.

Finally, her heavy lids closed, shutting out the light all together.

Cilla’s eyes fluttered open. She was in her bed in the bunkhouse, wrapped in her mother’s quilt.

“Hey there,” Brynne said. She leaned over and pulled Cilla’s blanket up a little higher. “How are you feeling?”

Cilla tried to lick her lips, but her mouth was too dry. “Thirsty.”

Brynne smiled and helped her sit up to drink a cup of water.

“We’ve been pouring this down your throat for two days. It’ll make it much easier now that you can drink it yourself.”

Cilla held the water in her mouth a moment, savoring the cool wetness before she swallowed. After a few more sips, she lowered the cup.

“Did you say two days?”

Brynne nodded, and Cilla noticed the circles under her eyes. “How long were we in the mine? Leo!”

Cilla tried to get up but Brynne pushed her back down.

“Stay put. Leo is fine. He hasn’t woken up yet. The doctor said it’s from his head injury. But his heartbeat is strong and there isn’t anything else wrong with him so we just have to wait. You can see him in a little while.”

Cilla laid back and tried to relax. She’d feel better if she could see him, but she didn’t think she could get out of the bed just yet without assistance, and Brynne didn’t seem like she was inclined to help.

“Drink more,” Brynne said, thrusting another cup of water at her. “You’re dehydrated.”

Cilla took another sip. “Why aren’t you in Mexico?”

Brynne smiled. “Lucy came and found us and we came right back to find you. Miguel got rid of Frank’s incompetent men and the other two were so intent on hightailing it out of the mine they ran right past him. He didn’t have any light but tried to find you anyway. But he went down the wrong tunnel at first. Then he heard the cave-in and doubled back. He had to come back to the ranch to get a lantern and tools. We found him there.

“We were all for going straight back to the mine, but Miguel knew we were going to need help. He went into town to ask for volunteers.”

Cilla snorted. “I bet they were just lining up to help.”

“Actually, they were,” Brynne said with a wry smile.

“This I’ve gotta hear.”

Brynne laughed. “Apparently when we blew up Frank’s office and the jailhouse, we also exposed the safe he had hidden in the walls. Your enterprising little sister,” she said, nodding to Lucy who sat in the corner rocking the baby, “decided to pry it open and see what was inside.”

“And?”

“Gold. Bags of it. And letters Frank had been sending to some rich landowner back east, trying to sell off portions of the town. Our neighbors weren’t so ready to side with him after finding all that. Lucy also reminded them who’d been the one keeping them fed and in their homes. Most of them were more than happy to help us free you after that.”

“Even though they believe I am a murderer?”

A shadow crossed Brynne’s face.

“What?” Cilla prompted.

Brynne glanced at Lucy before she spoke again. “Frank kept…keepsakes.”

Cilla frowned, afraid to ask.

“We found a gold pocket watch in the safe. It belonged to Mr. Williams. Bobby always had it on him.”

Cilla lay back, a thread of sadness snaking through her. “Poor Bobby.”

“He also had the Hudners’ wedding rings.”

Cilla frowned, unable to speak past the sudden lump in her throat.

“Their deaths are not your fault, Cilla,” Brynne said, reading Cilla’s mind.

In some way, yes, they were. And no one would ever convince her differently. But she didn’t say anything. No need to burden anyone else with her guilt.

“At least we were able to prove that Frank was behind their deaths. Not Blood Blade.”

“It’ll be nice to be able to go into town without worrying about being strung up from the nearest tree.” She gave Brynne a faint smile. She really was glad that her name, or Blood Blade’s, rather, had been cleared. But too much else had happened for it to really make her happy. “And Frank?”

Brynne’s smile faded. “We found his body beneath the rocks. He was wearing Jake’s claddagh ring.”

Cilla closed her eyes, sending up a quick prayer for her half-brother’s soul. He was going to need it.

“At least the town is free of him.”

“As are we,” Brynne reminded her.

Carmen bustled in and rushed to her side when she saw that Cilla was awake. She brushed the hair back from her face and gave her a motherly kiss on the forehead.

“You gave us quite a scare, mija. In fact, I think you’ve aged me a good ten years over the last few days.”

Cilla smiled and held tight to Carmen’s hand. “Lo siento,” she apologized. “I’ll try to keep the near-death experiences to a minimum from now on.”

“Miguel and I would appreciate it,” she said, giving Cilla’s hand a pat. “You need to settle down with that nice man in my cabin, make babies. That’s adventure enough from now on, I think.”

Cilla felt the heat rushing to her cheeks again and stole a glance at Brynne out of the corner of her eye. Cilla couldn’t begin to imagine her life without Leo. But…he wasn’t hers.

“Don’t even think it,” Brynne scolded her. “I already had this little talk with Leo before you tried to stick your neck in a noose. You two love each other. It’s insane to stay apart because of me. Coraline and I will be fine. We have more than enough help, and the two of you can lend a hand just as well together as you could apart. I’ve already discussed the matter with Reverend Mitchum.”

Cilla was afraid to ask. It seemed rather indelicate.

The expression on her face seemed to say it all because Brynne burst out laughing. “The marriage was never consummated. Easy grounds for annulment.”

Cilla was afraid to let the happiness that was hovering over her sink in too far. She was about to gain so much. Which meant she had that much more to lose.

“Can I see him?”

Brynne pointed to her cup. “You finish that water first. Then I’ll take you to him.”

Cilla downed the liquid and was out of bed before Brynne could say another word.

Leo lay pale and motionless beneath the blankets. But he was breathing steadily and when Cilla placed her hand over his heart, it thumped against her fingers reassuringly.

She leaned down and kissed him. “Leo? Can you hear me?”

He didn’t respond. She’d known he probably wouldn’t but she’d still held out a foolish hope that her kiss would wake him like some fairytale prince.

“I’ll stay here with you until you wake up,” she said, keeping one hand on his heart and taking his hand in her other. She leaned closer so she could whisper in his ear. “Just don’t take too long. You know how impatient I get.”

Cilla imagined him laughing at that and had to choke back tears. She sat on the bed next to him and watched the steady rise and fall of his chest. And waited.

…

Leo woke to feel a pressure on his chest. He lifted his hand only to find that it was entangled with someone else’s. The weight on his chest snored softly and he smiled. He stroked her pine-scented hair with his other hand, kissing the top of her head.

She stirred and snuggled against him. He wrapped his arm about her and held her close.

Cilla jumped.

“You’re awake!”

She grabbed his face in both hands and covered him with kisses before snuggling back down on his chest and burying her face in his neck. He wasn’t sure if he should laugh or take advantage of the fact that they appeared to be cuddled in bed together. Then again, he felt as if a two-ton bull had ridden roughshod over him. And he could really use a drink of water.

“Cilla?” He brushed her hair back from her face and craned his neck to look down at her. “I’m all right. Aren’t I? Is there something I don’t know?”

She laughed.

“No. You are fine. Now.” She leaned closer and kissed him. “But you kept me waiting an awfully long time.”

He kissed her back, letting his lips linger over hers. “My apologies, ma’am. Won’t happen again.”

“It better not,” she teased, stretching out beside him.

She could fill him in on all the details later. For right now, she was going to kiss him until he begged for mercy. And if he was half as stubborn as she was, that could be a very long time.

Epilogue

“Brynne, you don’t have to go. What are you going to do in Boston?”

Brynne gave Cilla another hug as the train blew its whistle again. “I know I don’t have to go. I want to.”

Cilla could almost feel her bottom lip sticking out in a pout. Brynne rolled her eyes.

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

Cilla knew she was being selfish and flat-out ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. The thought of Brynne and sweet little Coraline being all the way across the country was too much to bear. And when Lucy had decided to go along, Cilla had almost had a nervous breakdown. If it hadn’t been for Leo…

A smile tugged at her lips at the thought of her husband. Brynne saw it and gave her a knowing smile. “I am so happy for you, Cilla. For you and for Leo. But…it’s just too hard staying at the ranch, being there without Jake.”

“And seeing the two of us parading about…”

“No. I don’t mean that at all.”

Cilla gave Brynne a knowing look of her own and she relented. “All right, yes. It’s a little hard seeing the two of you so happy and remembering what I’ve lost. But I don’t begrudge you a single happy moment.”

Cilla pulled her sister into a hug. “I know you don’t. And I understand. I hate it, but I understand.”

Brynne laughed and kissed Cilla on the cheek. “I’m just a few train rides away,” she said with a wink.

Lucy bustled over and smothered Cilla in hugs and kisses. Cilla laughed and pushed her away enough so she could see Lucy’s face.

“You take care of my niece,” Cilla said.

“Yes, ma’am.” Lucy laughed and gave her another bone-crushing hug.

Brynne brought Coraline over and Cilla scooped her niece into her arms. She picked up the bundle of honey-smelling warmth in all her almost one-year-old adorableness and snuggled into her neck. Coraline wrapped her chubby arms around Cilla’s neck and squeezed.

“You be a good girl for your mama, all right?”

Coraline held still for one more hug and kiss, and then squirmed to go back to her mother. Brynne laughed and passed her to Lucy. Lucy propped Coraline on her hip and took her to the train, pausing on the steps to wave once more before the two of them disappeared inside.

Cilla’s throat was so tight with tears she couldn’t swallow, but she was determined to hold herself in check until they were gone. Leo came up and put his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side.

“You’re doing very well,” he whispered in her ear.

He was lying, but she appreciated the effort.

Brynne turned to Leo. “You take care of her. Keep her out of trouble.”

Leo pulled Brynne into a one-armed hug, keeping the other about Cilla. “I’m only one man, but I’ll try.”

Brynne laughed, her eyes welling with tears as she looked at the two of them.

“You have my parents’ address?” Leo asked.

“Yes.”

He nodded. “I’ve written, so they’ll be expecting you.”

They’d already gone over all this, but none of them wanted the moment to end. Once she got on the train, Cilla wasn’t sure she’d ever see her sisters again. Or her niece.

Damn. Her tears started to fall as the train sounded its last whistle.

Brynne grabbed her, crushed her in a hug.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too.”

Brynne turned and marched to the train without looking back. Cilla searched the windows and found Lucy and Coraline grinning at her from inside. She smiled through her tears and waved at them.

The train began to pull away. It took everything she had not to run after it. She thought for the millionth time that perhaps she and Leo should go with them. Make sure they made it okay. Get them settled.

But they had a ranch to run. Now that the main house had been rebuilt, they’d been focusing on beefing up their stock. And there was the mine to oversee.

Frank had been right. The mine was full of gold. Her father had been digging in the wrong spot and while he’d found a few nuggets, he hadn’t gone far enough in the right direction. Had he mined the other tunnel, he would have run into the super-rich vein the townspeople had struck while digging Cilla and Leo out.

While the mine technically belonged to the sisters, they never would have found it had it not been for their neighbors, so they’d offered to give a share of the mine’s profits to the town. There was more than enough for everyone, and it went a long way to repairing the damage Frank had done. The town was on its way to being a bustling, prosperous community again. And Leo, as it turned out, made an excellent sheriff.

Yes, they had a wonderful life waiting for them in Bethany Ridge. But she would miss her sisters.

“We’ll see them again,” Leo said.

“Promise?”

“I promise. And you know I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

Cilla turned and wrapped her arms around her husband’s neck.

“That’s good to know. It would be a shame if Blood Blade had to make a reappearance to keep the new town sheriff honest.”

Leo laughed, the rich tones of his happiness soothing the ache in Cilla’s soul.

“I don’t know. I kind of like Blood Blade.”

“Hmm, well, I still have my hat.”

Leo kissed Cilla until she was breathless and then scooped her up into his arms. “Let’s go home.”

Acknowledgments

To all those who have helped, supported, critiqued, read, edited, and cheered—my sincerest thanks.

To my husband and kids, Tom, Connor, Ryanna, Matt, and Kyelie—I love you all more than anything in the world. Your love and support mean more than I can say. To my parents, Mike and Laurie Marquis, and siblings, Ryan, Jeanette, Shaun, and Brandon, and to Mindy, Gail, and Michelle—my forever love and heartfelt thanks. My accomplishments mean nothing without you to share them with.

To my awesome editor, Erin Molta—your insights and suggestions never cease to amaze me. Working with you has been a dream. Thank you so much for all you do. To Pat Brigandi, and my awesome publicists Renee Rosen and Elana Johnson, and the rest of the awesome Entangled team—thank you! I’ll never be able to express how much I appreciate all the hard work you do to help get my books out to the world. You are all quite simply amazing.

To my writer buddies, friends, and besties—Lisa Amowitz, Cole Gibsen, Kristal Shaff, Toni Kerr, Christine Fonseca, Bethany Wiggins, Bonny Anderson, and my amazing Operation Awesome girls—Amparo Ortiz, Lindsay Scott, Kelly Andrews, Angie Townsend, and Katrina Lantz—for your support, friendship, and encouragement. Thank you a million times over.

She was hoping for a new start.

A woman with a past…

Widowed mother, Brynne Richardson, gave up her bandit activities when she left California to make a fresh start with her young daughter in Boston. Working for a handsome doctor fulfills her need to be useful and independent, but he creates another yearning she can’t deny.

A man with a purpose…

Dr. Richard Oliver assumes Brynne is just another debutante hunting for a rich husband, until she intrigues him with her steady hand for stitches…and guns. He can’t put her out of his mind, but the young widow has mysteries he’s determined to unravel.

A love in danger…

When smugglers raid the much-needed supplies from the clinic, Brynne must resurrect her bandit persona for the good of the sick and the poor. Her secret life threatens to destroy everything she’s worked so hard to protect…her life, her family… and her heart.

A Bandit’s Broken Heart
a Blood Blade Sisters Novel

Michelle McLean

To TCR – my love always

Chapter One

Brynne Forrester held the plate of pie up to her chin and glanced at her daughter. “Are you ready?”

Coraline nodded eagerly, her black ringlets bouncing about her face.

“Is your napkin secure?”

Coraline gave the napkin tied about her neck a firm tug and nodded again, breaking out in a happy grin. “Ready, Momma.”

“All right then. On the count of three. One…two…three!”

Brynne and Coraline dove face first into their plates, bolting the sweet berry pie down their gullets as fast as they could.

“Done! Done!” Coraline shouted, tossing her plate to the ground and jumping up to dance around her mother.

Brynne laughed and pulled her napkin from her neck, mopping up the mess from her mouth. Coraline would take a bit more work. The little girl looked like she’d bathed in berries and flaky crust. Brynne pulled her down onto her lap, wiping her daughter’s face as best she could while Coraline squirmed and squealed.

“I won, Momma!”

Brynne chuckled. “You did indeed, my little chickabiddy. Now hold still so we can clean you up.”

The sound of a clearing throat brought Brynne’s attention to the small group of women who had stopped to observe their fun. Cora, Brynne’s mother-in-law, had a strained smile on her face. The others in the group didn’t try to hide their amused shock. One or two glanced about, avoiding eye contact, though most of the group stared at her in open-mouthed astonishment.

“You have a little bit of something here,” Cora said, pointing a daintily gloved hand at her own chin to show Brynne where she’d missed a spot.

Brynne flushed and wiped the offending bit of sweetness from her face.

Her mother-in-law’s gaze flicked to the still giggling Coraline, who Brynne narrowly managed to keep from flinging herself at her grandmother.

“I won, Gamma, I won.”

“Yes, my dear, I see that,” Cora said, trying to keep out of range of Coraline’s sticky fingers. “But what exactly was it that you won?”

Brynne blushed, hating that the judgment glaring down from the well-connected women in front of her had erased the brief moment of levity she’d shared with her daughter.

“We were having a pie eating contest,” she said, forcing a carefree tone she no longer felt.

“A what?” Cora asked, her brow wrinkling as she looked at her granddaughter.

Brynne pinned Coraline down and finished cleaning her up.

“A pie eating contest. We used to have them at the ranch. Whoever can eat a piece of pie the fastest, wins.”

“Wins what?” one of the other women chimed in.

Brynne shot her a wary glance, but Mrs. Jacobs appeared genuinely interested.

“Oh, anything really. At the ranch, we’d have the contest just for fun, or we’d trade off chores or such. At the festivals in town, you could win anything from another pie to a quilt. I won a goat once.”

“How…quaint,” Mrs. Morey said.

Brynne stopped talking, her momentary embarrassment changing to anger at the looks of derision some of the women were giving her. Judgmental old hens. Mrs. Morey (who was connected to both the Gardner and Lowell families, thank you very much) was the worst of them. She always managed to find some fault in Brynne, no matter what the situation.

On further reflection, Brynne could admit a pie eating contest in the middle of Boston Common might not have been the best idea in the world for a picnic activity. But they had been sitting in a secluded enough spot, and they were only eating pie, for heaven’s sake, not picking their teeth with their pen knives in front of the governor. Though from the women’s reactions, they might as well have been.

“That sounds…lovely,” Cora said.

A twinge of guilt broke through Brynne’s anger at Cora’s expression. The last thing she wanted to do was embarrass her mother-in-law.

“Mrs. Forrester, I was going to send this ‘round to you, but as you are here,” Mrs. Jacobs said, pulling a card from her bag. “I’d be very pleased if you’d join us next week for a small music soiree at my home.”

Brynne took the card, touched that the woman not only thought to invite her but had the backbone to do it in front of Mrs. Morey. Though the thought of venturing into one of the social soirees made Brynne’s normally stout stomach quiver in unpleasant ways.

“That’s very kind of you, Mrs. Jacobs.”

Mrs. Jacobs smiled kindly, ignoring Mrs. Morey’s haughty sniff.

“I hope to see you there.”

Brynne nodded. The women excused themselves, some more politely than others.

“Well, my dears, are you ready to return home?” Cora asked.

Coraline stuck her bottom lip out, preparing to pout, but Brynne gave her a stern look. “I actually have a few errands to run. But it would be a help if you could take Coraline.”

“Of course.” Cora held her hand out to her granddaughter. Coraline giggled and ran to her grandmother. Brynne swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. It was a joy to see Coraline get on so well with her husband Jake’s family. Since their daughter would never know her father, it was a blessing that she would get to know his parents.

Brynne stood and brushed at her skirts, hoping there were no lingering bits of pie anywhere on her person. Cora’s man began to clean up the remnants of their picnic, and Brynne gathered her reticule and pulled her daughter in for a kiss.

“You be a good girl for your granny.”

“Oh, dear girl, please. Grandmother, or even Gran if you must. But not granny.”

Brynne gave Cora a quick kiss on her cheek. “I won’t be but two shakes of a tick’s tail.”

“Oh. Yes, well, fine. Take your time, dear.”

Brynne waved as Coraline scampered off after her grandmother, and then turned and headed toward the carriage she had waiting a short distance away. She kept her head high as she walked past the groups of people scattered throughout the park. Some still stared, a few tittered behind their gloved hands, while others flat out turned up their noses.

Perhaps the park hadn’t been the best choice of locations for a pie eating contest, but it had seemed harmless enough. And Brynne and Coraline had both needed to cut loose for a moment and have a little fun. Boston had been a haven of sorts when they’d moved here, but there were a lot of things that Brynne missed about home.

Ah well. She had other matters to attend to. She would have to save the nostalgia for later.

…

Brynne froze at the sound of footsteps coming up the lane, her heart pounding in her chest. For once, she was thankful for the voluminous skirts she’d begun wearing since she’d moved to Boston. They could hide all manner of things in their depths. Including the box she’d been about to leave on the stoop where she stood.

The footsteps faded, heading off in the other direction. She breathed a sigh of relief but waited for a few moments to be sure. Another quick look up and down the deserted lane with its small shops and tenements assured her she wouldn’t be seen. Brynne swished her skirts away from the large parcel she’d been standing over and nudged it closer to the door of a large family she’d seen in the marketplace a few days earlier. She plucked a rose from her hat, tucked it into the string wrapped about the package, and departed as quickly as she could without drawing attention to herself.

Brynne’s driver waited with the carriage around the corner and she hastened inside. As soon as the carriage lurched into action, she settled back against the seats, a small smile gracing her lips as her heart rate gradually returned to normal. She regretted having to use a rose as her calling card. A red California poppy would have been preferable, but impossible to find in Boston, especially so close to winter. Blood Blade had always left a red poppy. But Brynne would have to make do with what she had.

It felt good to be helping people again. The family she’d left the package for had several small children, all inadequately dressed for the encroaching cold weather, all thinner than they should be. Brynne had discreetly followed the harried mother until she’d found their home. She hoped her package of shoes, food stuffs, and the small bag of coins would ease their lot a bit. Helping in secret gave her the little taste of the excitement that she used to experience when she had ridden the trails with her sisters under the guise of the bandit Blood Blade.

Of course, things were very different now. She and her sisters no longer had to steal in order to help the unfortunates who depended on them. Thanks to their very profitable gold mine, they’d never have to steal again. And Brynne was thousands of miles away in the very civilized city of Boston.

Yet, despite Boston’s wealth and culture, Brynne still found those who needed help. And while Blood Blade would probably never “ride” again, Brynne could certainly do what she could to alleviate suffering when she saw it.

She had her driver drop her near her favorite eating house. As soon as her cocoa arrived, she settled back with a sigh.

The anonymous gifts she’d been leaving about the city had been noticed enough that a story had appeared in last week’s paper. Brynne enjoyed reading the blurbs about them. Enjoyed even more reading about how much they had helped those who had received them. Being the secret donor somewhat relieved the restlessness that plagued her, but it could hardly compare to her wild days with her sisters. And bringing happiness to others went a little way toward filling the aching hole in her heart that had been left when her husband had been killed. Brynne didn’t think her broken heart would ever truly mend.

Being in Boston wasn’t helping as much as she’d hoped. Brynne had been many things in her former life–a rancher, a sister, a wife, a mother, a bandit–but she’d never been a social pariah before. She wasn’t finding the experience enjoyable.

Well, perhaps pariah was a bit of a stretch. Her in-laws’ reputation and position in social circles saved her from being completely shunned. But it didn’t stop the gossip mills from running full tilt, nor did it stop the cream of the crop from grinning politely to her face and turning their noses up at her the second her back was turned.

Brynne put down her cup and turned her face to the sun, welcoming the weak warmth of the unseasonably warm day. The small restaurant was one of her favorite spots. It wasn’t often that she got to enjoy being out of doors, alone with her reflections. Her well-meaning in-laws had been nothing but kind and welcoming, taking her in without hesitation when she’d shown up on their doorstep with her daughter and sister in tow after the death of her husband. But they were sticklers when it came to society’s rules. Leaving the house unaccompanied was a near impossibility, and for a woman who was more used to riding the range with a bandana covering her face and taking care of herself no matter what the situation, it was a lot to get used to.

Brynne missed the freedom of being on her own, as well as the more relaxed life on the ranch. On the ranch, life had been about survival. Here, life was about one’s position in society. There were a few eccentrics, to be sure, more than Brynne had expected. But being an odd stick was only acceptable if you belonged to the right family, had the right connections, or had enough money to make everyone forget everything else.

Brynne had the money all right, but her background was a bit hazy (and she wanted to keep it that way) and the only connections she had were her in-laws. Granted, it was a good connection. Being the widow of the eldest Forrester son had opened a few doors, at least a crack, that would have been slammed in her face in other circumstances.

The waiter came back to refill her cocoa. It was a terrible indulgence, but Brynne couldn’t give it up. She’d never tasted hot chocolate before moving to Boston and it had become something of a guilty pleasure.

“Thank you, Walter,” she said, smiling up at the waiter. She’d gotten to know most of the staff fairly well during her daily visits and Walter was one of her particular favorites. He always brought her a little extra goodie.

He nodded and then hovered for a moment. “What is it, Walter?”

“Forgive me, ma’am, but I was wondering if you was still needing staff for your new home.”

“Yes, I am,” she answered, hoping he might have a good lead or two for her.

Unfortunately, her tenuous hold on propriety hadn’t helped her replace the staff she needed for the house. Nearly all of the old staff had followed the previous owners to their new home. Not surprising, really, considering that the new owners had stayed in town and servants who had been with their families for years tended to be loyal. At least the good ones.

Still, of the few who had chosen to remain, only Mrs. Krause, the housekeeper, would pass Brynne’s mother-in-law’s muster. There was also Old Mr. Cotton, the former butler. When Brynne said old, she wasn’t exaggerating. The man had to be eighty, at least. No longer really fit to fulfill his duties, but Brynne could hardly turn the man out. However, she’d put out an advertisement for a replacement for him. She needed a butler who could actually run the household. Perhaps Mr. Cotton could be a sort of advisor. Most likely he would be content enough to sit by the fire in the kitchen and doze.

“Did you know someone looking for employment?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Walter said with a smile. “My little brother, Charlie. He’s real good with horses. He’d make a good footman or stable boy if you have any need of someone like that.”

“I do indeed.” Brynne smiled, her mood considerably lighter. “The renovations are finally complete and I’ll be needing the staff in place shortly. Why don’t you send him along and we’ll see how he works out.”

Walter jotted down the address she gave him. “Thank you, ma’am. He’ll be excited when I tell him.” He gave her a little bow and went back to work with a grin.

At least that was one position she could check off the list. If Charlie was half as likeable as his brother, they should have no problems. As for the other staff…Brynne pondered the pathetically small group of men who had responded for the butler position. She would scrap it all and run the house herself, but she knew her mother-in-law would never allow that. If Brynne was going to live on her own, she needed a properly staffed household.

Truth to tell, she’d need one more for efficiency’s sake than for propriety. Her new home was a far cry from the ranch house she’d grown up in. She’d need a full staff to keep the place from crumbling like a broken fence in a stampede beneath her feet.

“Ah, Mrs. Forrester. Imagine running into you twice in the same day.”

Brynne suppressed an eye roll and tacked on a grin. She would bet her best steer that Mrs. Morey would rather be force-fed a rattlesnake than run into Brynne even once, let alone twice, in the same day. Still, it wouldn’t do to be impolite. “Mrs. Morey, how nice to see you.”

Mrs. Morey smirked and looked around. “Are you here alone?”

“Yes.”

The woman’s face puckered like she’d sucked on a lemon and Brynne held her breath to keep any of her thoughts from showing on her face. Honestly, it wasn’t as if she were the only woman who walked about town on her own. Granted, she wasn’t in the most fashionable area in the city, but it suited her.

Still, Brynne had no fears of being on her own. She knew how to handle herself. And anything she couldn’t handle, the gun in her handbag would take care of for her. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to shoot someone. Wandering about the streets of Boston was probably one of the safest pastimes in which Brynne had ever engaged. Not that Mrs. Morey needed to know any of that.

“Are you alone?” she asked, not seeing anyone with the irritating woman.

“Heavens no,” Mrs. Morey replied, her hand fluttering to her chest in shock at such a suggestion. “Billy is across the street picking up a few items for me, and Mrs. Kendler and her daughters will be joining me shortly. They’ve been volunteering their time at Dr. Oliver’s clinic. The man is a true saint.” She leaned in as if she had some great secret. “He treats all the poor unfortunates in the area, often without pay.”

Brynne widened her eyes, hoping that would be enough of a surprised “you don’t say” reaction for Mrs. Morey. If the woman knew what Brynne had done in the name of charity, she would probably collapse right there in the street. That brought a smile to Brynne’s lips and she quickly dabbed at her mouth with her handkerchief. As tempting as the idea was, spilling all the details of her outlaw past would hardly help gain her any headway in the elite circles.

“Oh my. Mrs. Kendler and her daughter are absolute angels to spend their charitable hours assisting him.” Brynne hoped her sarcasm wasn’t too apparent.

Mrs. Morey didn’t pick up on it. “They are indeed.”

Brynne almost snorted, but managed to turn the sound into a sneeze. From what Brynne had heard, the saintly Richard Oliver was a rather handsome man and fairly well off. She’d be willing to bet the pearl-handled knife in her boot that the Kendler women’s charity had more to do with garnering some favorable attention from the good doctor than any true desire to help those less fortunate than themselves.

“Ah, here they are.”

A dour, plump little woman strode purposefully toward Mrs. Morey, her equally dour daughters in tow behind her, and a houseboy and maid in tow behind them. Brynne didn’t care what was considered proper or even safe; she’d never gallivant about town with an entire entourage traipsing at her heels.

Mrs. Kendler greeted Mrs. Morey as if she hadn’t seen her in ages and then turned to Brynne, her good mood immediately fading. She gave Brynne the barest of nods.

Brynne was tempted to ignore the woman altogether, but that would be unforgivably rude and Brynne had no desire to bring any consequences down on her mother-in-law. Or on her sister, Lucy, who needed to navigate her way through society’s waters as well. So Brynne forced a smile.

“Would you ladies care to join me?” she asked.

“No. Thank you.” Mrs. Kendler looked down her nose at Brynne. “We have an appointment to keep and should really be on our way.”

Mrs. Morey wasn’t quick enough (or smart enough) to hide her surprise, which left Brynne with no doubt that the supposed appointment was a convenient excuse to save themselves from her undesirable company. Brynne steeled her face into a bland expression, hiding the surprising sting that knowledge brought. She’d never give the woman the satisfaction of knowing how effective her barbs were.

“Well, perhaps another time then.”

“Perhaps.” Mrs. Kendler gathered her daughters and stalked off. Mrs. Morey at least had the decency to nod in Brynne’s direction before she tottered off after her friend.

Brynne sat and stared at a flock of pigeons across the lane, fuming in hurt silence. It wasn’t that she liked either woman or even wanted to spend any time in their company. Still.

Brynne sighed. No sense in dwelling over what she couldn’t change. She knew she should probably be getting home, but she couldn’t bear going back into her in-law’s massive, beautiful home yet. Coraline would be going down for a nap soon, and her sister and mother-in-law had made plans to visit one of the art museums the Forresters donated to. And she would only be in the way of the workers remodeling her own home if she dropped by there again.

Brynne really needed to find something to do with her time.

An idea niggled at the back of her mind. Perhaps she could volunteer her time to help the sainted Dr. Oliver as well. After all, if the high and mighty Mrs. Kendler could spare a few moments at the clinic, Brynne could certainly do so. She had experience in medical aid and wasn’t squeamish around the ill or injured, something she doubted Mrs. Kendler or her daughters could boast. Brynne could be of valuable help at his clinic. And unlike the unholy trio who had just left, she truly wanted something of value to do with her time. Something more interesting than wandering about a museum or socializing at yet another fundraiser.

Her mind made up, she gathered her belongings and went inside the café to ask for directions to the doctor’s clinic.

She was helpful, hard-working, and willing to get her hands dirty. Anyone would be lucky to have her help. It was about to be Dr. Oliver’s lucky day.

Chapter Two

Brynne kicked at her heavy skirts, wondering what the good people of Boston would think if she stripped right there in the street. She’d worn dresses back home, certainly, but they hadn’t been nearly as constricting or as heavily layered and she had spent more time than not in a pair of her Pa’s old breeches. She never thought she’d say it, but she missed her old life, no matter how difficult it had been at times.

At least, back on the ranch she’d had something to do other than sit around gossiping with the women from her mother-in-law’s society clubs or shopping for yet another dress she’d only wear once. On the ranch, Brynne might have woken every morning to a list of chores a mile long and gone to bed every night exhausted, but at least her life had had purpose.

Well, hopefully she could do something to get a little of that back. If she could find Dr. Oliver’s clinic, that is. She’d already turned down two wrong streets and had had to backtrack. At last, she turned down a lane and spotted a large plot where builders worked on renovating a damaged, old building. The clinic should be just up the lane a ways.

It had been established in an old, stately home in what had probably once been a fashionable neighborhood. Now, most of the homes had been torn down or converted for other uses. Men scurried to and fro over a stone wall like ants on a picnic lunch while others shored up the support beams leaning against the wall. Brynne repressed a shudder. The thought of being so high off the ground made her head swim and her stomach revolt.

She put her head down and continued on. Brynne came to a halt in front of the clinic’s gates. It still retained some illusions of grandeur. A few trees stood watch in front. A beautifully swirling wrought-iron fence covered in flowering ivy admitted entrance to a carefully landscaped yard and wide stone steps led to the covered porch of the building.

Brynne mounted the steps, hoping she wouldn’t be sent away before she’d even had a chance to plead her case. She wasn’t a trained nurse and had never worked in a medical facility, so they certainly had every reason to turn her away. Which was why she had come to this clinic instead of going to Massachusetts General Hospital. Hopefully, a smaller, less formal establishment would have need or some appreciation of skilled help, even if it wasn’t professional.

Brynne wasn’t sure if she should knock or simply enter. Thankfully, she didn’t have to decide as the door opened as she reached for the handle. A kind old gentleman held the door open for her as he tipped his hat.

“Thank you,” Brynne murmured, stepping inside the brightly lit interior.

The heavy drapes had been pulled open, allowing daylight to stream through the numerous windows. What had once been a grand entrance hall had been set up as an admittance ward. Several comfortable looking chairs were arranged in one corner, many of them occupied with waiting patients. A mother with a runny-nosed child; a dock worker whose arm had been bandaged and placed in a sling; an older couple who looked perfectly fine except for the cane in the man’s hand. All stared at Brynne with unabashed curiosity. With her fine morning dress trimmed in ribbons and fringe, her veiled hat and soft kid gloves, she stuck out in this place like a lemon among a bushel of apples. And she seemed about as welcome.

She straightened her shoulders and marched up to a crabby-looking woman sitting behind the large desk that guarded the main staircase. The woman didn’t look up. Brynne waited a moment and when the woman continued to ignore her, Brynne cleared her throat. The woman glanced up, not bothering to conceal her irritation at having been interrupted by someone the likes of her.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked. She sounded like the only thing she’d like to help Brynne with was finding a nice, high cliff to jump off.

“Yes, I’d like to speak to the administrator in charge please.”

The woman’s frown deepened. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.”

“Are you one of our patrons?”

“No, but—”

“I’m sorry. Dr. Oliver is a very busy man. If you’d care to make an appointment you can come back another day.”

The woman put her head down and went back to her task. Brynne refused to be dismissed so lightly and had no issue with letting the woman know it. She opened her mouth to giving her lungs a good airing out but was distracted when a door opened and a man’s laughter floated through the hall.

“You take care of that hand now,” the man said, ruffling the hair of a small child who was gingerly holding a hand wrapped in white bandages.

“Thank you, Dr. Oliver,” the mother said, giving the doctor a grateful smile.

“My pleasure, Mrs. Patrick. Keep the little scoundrel away from his papa’s forge for a few more years, eh?”

The mother nodded with a sheepish grin and escorted her son out the door. Dr. Oliver looked up and caught sight of Brynne. He turned his charming smile on her and came in her direction.

Brynne stared, completely taken aback by the man walking toward her. This was Dr. Oliver? She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but the handsome man in front her was certainly not it. He was so young. She had expected someone with at least some gray at his temples, maybe even a distinguished elderly man in a white coat.

But this man couldn’t be more than thirty. His blond hair didn’t have a touch of gray and his face was smooth except for the slight crinkles around his blue eyes when he laughed. As he was doing right now. An action which also revealed the dimple in his left cheek. Adorable wasn’t a word she usually used to describe a full grown man, but in his case…

Brynne jerked to attention, belatedly realizing the man was speaking, and tried to pull herself together. What on earth was wrong with her? It was like she’d never seen a handsome man before. She had to admit, she hadn’t seen many who could rival the good doctor. Even Jake…

At the memory of her late husband, all thoughts of the doctor’s good looks evaporated.

“What can I help you with, Miss…?”

“Mrs. Forrester,” Brynne stated firmly.

Was that disappointment in his eyes? Brynne dismissed the thought. Of course it wasn’t. And even if it was, it was of no concern to her.

“What can I do for you, Mrs. Forrester?”

“I was hoping I could speak with you. I know you are very busy, but it would only take a moment.”

“Of course. I was about to take a short break anyway.”

He took her elbow and steered her toward the back of the hall. “Mrs. Birch, I’ll be in my office if there are any emergencies.”

Brynne glanced back and barely kept herself from cringing at the look on the woman’s face. The old bat had a chip on her shoulder the size of a house, one Brynne would dearly love to knock off for her. But that was no way to treat a potential coworker. So, Brynne refrained from returning the woman’s hateful look and followed the doctor.

He opened the door for them and allowed Brynne to enter first. It was definitely a man’s office. All dark wood and leather, though with the enormous window filling the wall opposite the door, the room still managed to be light and airy. Two bookcases ran the length of the walls on either side of her, interspersed with nautical paintings and filled with books and various knick-knacks.

Dr. Oliver helped her into a plush armchair in front of his desk and took the seat next to her instead of sitting behind the desk. She found his proximity unnerving but managed to keep herself in check.

“Now, Mrs. Forrester, what can I do for you today?”

“Well, Dr. Oliver, I’ve come to offer my services.”

His eyebrows rose at that and Brynne hurried to clarify. “My nursing services, I mean.”

“Ah, I see. Are you a trained nurse?” His eyes looked her up and down, his doubt plainly stamped on his face.

“Well, no, not trained exactly. But I do have quite a lot of experience in—”

“Mrs. Forrester,” Dr. Oliver got up and moved to the other side of his desk and sat down, his tone instantly changing from charming to one of dismissive annoyance. “I appreciate that you’d like to find a worthy way to spend your time, and I’m flattered that you considered our establishment, but we do have a full nursing staff already on the premises.”

Brynne bristled. “Dr. Oliver, I am not some bored old biddy who has nothing better to do with her time.” That wasn’t entirely true, but he didn’t need to know that. “I have plenty of nursing experience, even if I haven’t had the actual schooling and—”

“I’m sure you have. But like I said, I’m afraid this facility has all the nursing staff it requires. Of course, we are always grateful to accept the help of affluent members of the community if you would like to volunteer your time in another capacity. We host several fundraisers every year and new patrons are always welcome. Or if you’d prefer to be more personally involved, we are always in need of bandages, blankets, clothing, and the like. If you are handy with a needle, those are always worthwhile pursuits for ladies such as yourself.”

“Ladies such as myself? Dr. Oliver, if I only wanted to donate goods or money, I’d have sent a maid over with the bank note and a bundle of rags.”

“And we would have been very grateful for your donation. I don’t mean to be insulting, Mrs. Forrester. However, we’ve had many patrons over the years who seem to want to work here out of a sense of adventure or even penance and all it serves to do is cause disruption and headache. I commend your willingness to be more involved with those less fortunate than you,” he said, sounding anything but complimentary, “however, I simply cannot allow the disturbance to my staff and patients simply to prove to you what I already know; that you will be as unsuited to the work as the many who have come before you. Now, if you will excuse me, my time is very limited and I must be getting back to—”

“I can do more than rip bandages and sew, Dr. Oliver. If you’d give me a chance—”

“This is a medical clinic, Mrs. Forrester,” he said, his face growing more rigid with every word. “All manner of disease, injury, and pestilence walk through that door. I mean no insult, but women such as you are simply not bred to—”

Brynne rose, her patience for his unjust and insulting arrogance at an end. “Dr. Oliver, I am not some sort of animal that has been “bred” to do anything. And you have no idea who I am or what manner of woman I am. That you would presume to—”

He rose as well. “As I was saying, this is not the type of establishment that a woman such as you would want to spend her time. Surely your husband—”

“My husband is dead.”

Dr. Oliver stopped at that, the irritation fading from his face. “I am sorry to hear that, Mrs. Forrester. Truly.”

“But you still don’t think I have anything to offer you or your clinic.”

“Again, I am sorry, but as I said…”

“Yes. As you said. You’re as small-minded and pig-headed as the rest of the men in this city.”

Dr. Oliver’s eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak but didn’t seem to be able to find anything to say. Well, at least she could take some small satisfaction from their disastrous meeting. She’d rendered the arrogant bastard speechless. Hurrah!

She went to the door, grabbing the handle before he’d gathered himself enough to move. “I’ll see myself out, thank you very much.”

She left before he could say another word.

…

Brynne pushed her way through the gates and marched down the street, still fuming over her dismissal. A loud noise echoed through the air, stopping her dead in her tracks. She cocked her head, trying to figure out what had made such a sound. A moment passed, but she heard nothing else. Then a sharp crack splintered the silence, followed by an ominous rumble.

The screaming began as the rumbling turned into a deafening, ground-shaking cacophony of sound.

Brynne turned and ran back the way she’d come. She rounded the corner and ran straight into a cloud of debris and dust. Oh sweet heaven, the wall of the renovated building had collapsed.

She pulled out her handkerchief and covered her mouth, squinting to protect her eyes as much as she could from the dust. What she was able to see made her stomach drop into her toes. Bodies lay everywhere. Most, thankfully, were still moving. Men scrambled to get as far from the toppled wall as they could, crawling if they couldn’t walk. Dr. Oliver and his staff were already swarming over the scene, helping those who were pulled from the rubble.

Brynne debated finding the doctor and offering her help, but the scene was one of pure chaos. And she was going to help anyway, so asking him for permission would really be an unnecessary interruption. Besides, she doubted her assistance would be any more welcome now than it had been minutes before. But she didn’t see any reason the injured men should be denied her help simply because the doctor wasn’t intelligent enough to utilize a good resource when it was offered.

The nurses were separating the injured into two groups; those who were injured, but still mobile, and those that were hurt more grievously and needed to be carried into the clinic. Brynne started with the man closest to her, inspecting his injuries and directing him to the group with minor injuries before moving on to the next man. She’d sent six men in that direction before she found one that was going to need help, and quickly.

She dropped to her knees next to him so she could get a closer look at his injuries. But before she could do anything, someone grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

“Mrs. Forrester? What in the world are you doing here?”

Brynne looked into the angry face of Dr. Oliver. “I’m helping. Now remove your hand from my arm, please,” she said, resisting the urge to yank her arm from his grip.

He released her. “This is no place for you, Mrs. Forrester. You will be in the way and in danger here. I must ask you to leave. For your own safety.”

Brynne bit back the retort on her tongue. Now was not the time or place to re-educate the arrogant bastard, even if he desperately needed someone to put him in his place. Anything Brynne had been going to say was interrupted when the man at their feet moaned and shifted, revealing an enormous pool of blood that was quickly spreading.

Brynne gasped and dropped to her knees, ignoring the doctor’s shouts of protest as he dropped down beside her.

The blood looked like it was coming from the man’s arm, but Brynne couldn’t see the injury through his clothes. She grasped the man’s torn sleeve and yanked hard, ripping it clean off. Dr. Oliver looked at her in surprise but turned his attention back to the injured man who had a gash on his arm that was pumping blood out at an alarming rate.

The man whimpered and Brynne spared a glance for him. He was hardly more than a boy. She doubted he was seventeen—if that. And he was terrified. He needed to calm down. His accelerated heart rate was only serving to pump the blood out of his body faster.

“Hi there,” Brynne said, trying to make her voice as soothing as possible. He turned his frightened gaze to her and she gave him the most reassuring smile she could muster. “You’re going to be fine, all right? But I need you to try and calm down for me.”

The man nodded, but his breathing didn’t slow. And neither did the blood. It didn’t help matters that Dr. Oliver was bellowing like a constipated mule for someone to bring him a stretcher and bandages.

Brynne shot the doctor a scathing look but turned to the injured man again. “Look at me, okay? Right here,” she said, pointing at her eyes.

The man obeyed her and she smiled at him. “There you go.” She fumbled with the hem of her dress and grasped her petticoat.

“What are you doing?” the doctor asked, the shock clear in his voice. Brynne could picture the look on his face, but she was too busy trying to save his patient to risk a glance. She grabbed hold of the bottom of her petticoat and yanked, ripping a long length from it.

“I’m going to wrap this around your arm. You keep right on looking at me,” she told the psatient.

Brynne went to wrap the bandage around his wound to form a tourniquet, but the doctor took it from her. Brynne took her eyes from her patient for a second and looked at the doctor. His face had softened. He gazed at her, almost bewildered, but at least he wasn’t trying to shove her out of the way anymore. He took the makeshift bandage and started to bind the man’s arm.

Brynne took the wounded man’s hand in her own. He whimpered again and she murmured soothingly to him. “What’s your name?”

“Edward,” he said. His voice was barely audible.

“Edward, that is my father-in-law’s name also. A good, strong name. Is it a family name?”

Edward nodded. “My father’s name.”

Dr. Oliver had finished binding his arm and motioned to some men passing by with a stretcher.

“Edward, Dr. Oliver is going to get you taken care of, all right? They need to take you inside the clinic.”

“Will you come, too?”

Brynne glanced at the doctor who nodded with no hesitation this time, although his brow was still drawn in perplexed wrinkles as he regarded her.

“Yes, of course. I’ll be right here. Ready?”

Edward nodded again and the men quickly transferred him onto the stretcher and carried him through the rubble into the clinic.

Brynne stayed right on the doctor’s heels and when there were no available nurses to assist him in stitching Edward’s arm, Brynne scrubbed her hands and did the best she could to help. The doctor managed to get the bleeding to slow and he repaired what damage he could inside the wound and stitched it up. Edward had long since fainted from the pain, which was a blessing.

He’d begun to dress and bind the wound when a shout drew his attention.

“Dr. Oliver!”

The doctor looked in the direction of the shouting nurse and swore under his breath. She and two other nurses where trying to hold down a patient with a head wound who was convulsing.

Dr. Oliver placed a wad of bandages over Edward’s wound and put Brynne’s hands on top. “Bind this as best you can for now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Brynne nodded and carefully wrapped the bandage around Edward’s arm. The movement caused Edward to whimper but he didn’t fully wake. Brynne looked at the rest of his arm. His shoulder had a huge bruise that was coloring nicely, and one of his fingers was definitely broken. Brynne gently probed his shoulder and Edward moaned again.

“Dr. Oliver,” she called. Edward’s finger needed to be splinted and his shoulder was dislocated. Resetting both the finger and joint would be better done while Edward was still unconscious.

Dr. Oliver glanced up but immediately turned his attention to stitching the bleeding gash of the patient before him.

After several minutes it became clear the doctor wasn’t coming back soon. Brynne bit her lip. She knew what to do. It certainly wouldn’t be the first broken bone or dislocated joint she’d set, and in far worse conditions than her present surroundings. In fact, her sister Cilla had received similar injuries when she’d been thrown from a horse when they were younger.

Brynne looked around. Everyone was scurrying to and fro, their attention focused elsewhere. Edward moaned again.

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Brynne muttered.

She took Edward’s forearm in one hand, placed her other on his shoulder, set her feet, and pulled with a quick, hard yank. Edward jerked with a groan as his joint popped back into place, but he didn’t wake. Brynne went to work on splinting his finger.

Dr. Oliver returned right as she was finishing.

“Mrs. Forrester! How dare yo—”

“Shhh.” Brynne shushed him, shooting him a furious glare. If he woke the poor boy when she’d tried so hard to keep him asleep through the whole procedure she’d brain him with a bedpan.

The doctor sputtered, his face bright red with anger. Until he looked at his patient’s arm. His stitches had been dressed and neatly bound, the swelling at his shoulder had already reduced, and his broken finger lay, swollen but straight, between the others. Brynne felt a small rush of pride. She did damn fine work, if she did say so herself.

“Excuse me,” she said, elbowing the doctor out of the way so she could finish binding Edward’s finger to the small splint she’d found.

Dr. Oliver stepped back with a bemused expression on his face and let her finish up.

“All right then,” she said when she’d finished. “Did you have something to say to me?”

The doctor’s lips pursed in a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “Let’s see to the others. Then we can speak in my office.”

Brynne nodded, tamping down the rush of adrenaline flooding through her system. She hadn’t felt this alive and useful since she’d arrived in Boston. She wasn’t sure how much of the feeling was stemming from helping Edward or from the upcoming confrontation with the doctor. The possibility that it might be the latter dampened the sensation a bit.

By the time Edward was peacefully resting, Dr. Oliver’s face had lost a bit of the irritated and confused look, and by the time they’d made the rounds to the rest of the ward during which Brynne helped bandage and clean up all manner of vile bodily fluids and messes, he’d lost it altogether. In fact, as they removed their stained aprons and washed the blood from their hands, the doctor kept glancing at her with bemused surprise. And a begrudging respect.

“What is it?” she asked him with a mild glare. “Did I miss a spot? Is there a smudge on my face?”

He grinned, and the laugh lines around his eyes made a reappearance. “No. You’ve surprised me, that’s all. Not many people do.”

“I suspect a great many women would surprise you if you’d give them half the chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that. Most of the gentlewomen in Boston are just that. Gently born, gently raised. Brought up to be patrons of the arts and the city, and preside at fetes and balls and fundraisers, and run their households. Very few could handle themselves as well as you did today.”

Brynne snorted. “I’ve field dressed bullet wounds and sewn up injuries with the needle and thread from my sewing kit. A little blood or case of the backdoor trots isn’t going to make me faint.”

Dr. Oliver’s eyes rose and Brynne flushed. He must think she was unforgivably crass.

“You’ll have to tell me about your experiences one of these days, Mrs. Forrester.”

“Does that mean I’ll be seeing you again, Dr. Oliver?” she asked.

His lips twitched and he rubbed his knuckle over his lips. “Why not? Why don’t you come back on Monday? We can give it a trial period and see how you do.”

Brynne released a breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. She told herself it was because she was so looking forward to being useful again. It had nothing to do with wanting to see the arrogant ass. Even now, after everything she’d done that morning to help, he was still only willing to let her return on a trial. Fine. She’d show him what she was capable of.

“Well then, I suppose I will see you Monday then, Dr. Oliver.”

“I’ll escort you home.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Necessary or not, I will accompany you.”

Arguing further was pointless, so Brynne gathered her shawl and waited by the door.

Her heart fluttered as he strode toward her. She didn’t like what the sensation might mean. She would have to be careful around the doctor.

He smiled when he reached her and her heart jumped again.

Oh, yes. Very careful.

Chapter Three

If Brynne had realized what a commotion arriving home on the arm of the Doctor Richard Oliver would cause, she would have been more forceful in insisting he remain at the clinic. Cora was beside herself with smug excitement. She’d been trying to get Brynne to show some interest in the eligible bachelors around town, feeling she’d been a grieving widow for too long. But Brynne wasn’t ready for any of that and had told her so in no uncertain terms.

Judging from her mother-in-law’s expression, being escorted home by a handsome and seemingly unattached man made Cora as pleased as a cat with his nose in a fish barrel. It was, however, a huge disappointment for the woman Cora was entertaining.

Mrs. Morey sat ramrod straight in her chair, her hands folded primly in her lap, with the most scathing look of dislike Brynne had so far seen in this fair city. The look evaporated as quickly as it had appeared, to be replaced with a smile that barely touched her lips.

Brynne was a little confused by Mrs. Morey’s enmity in this particular instance. She supposed it might have to do with running into Brynne for a third time that day. That might be enough to drive the poor old biddy to drink. Then again, Mrs. Morey had never needed a reason to dislike Brynne. None of the society women Brynne had attempted to socialize with had been very welcoming. Brynne was damned thrice over for committing the unpardonable sins of having been born “out in the heathen west” instead of in their fair city, for having an obscene amount of money that came from a ranch and a mine she had worked herself, and for being widowed and independent and wanting to stay that way.

Brynne had never quite understood the society mavens’ disdain of her wealth. The vast majority of their families had earned their money the old fashioned way, by working for it in every industry from textiles to seafaring. Frankly, the way in which many prominent Bostonian families had made their wealth and what they chose to do with it was one of the reasons Brynne had assumed she’d fit in well.

Quite a few families had been a little less than ethical, or even legal, when it came to building their fortunes. There was more than one family in Boston who had a few fingers in the smuggling trade and rum-running, not to mention the occasional outright swindle. But, they were incredibly generous with their oft-times ill-gotten gains—patronizing museums, schools, hospitals, and many other worthy institutions. In truth, they weren’t so different from a girl who’d spent a few years raiding the corrupt wealthy of the west behind the mask of a bandit in order to save her town and ranch from going under.

The Bostonian elite weren’t flashy with their wealth either, and didn’t seem to approve of those who were, an attitude Brynne admired. But Brynne, with her hazy background, Catholic tendencies (thanks to her housekeeper and surrogate mother, Carmen), shiny new money, and murdered husband, was simply too…other, wrong, outside.

Even with all that, while she hadn’t been particularly accepted, she hadn’t been outright shunned. Yet. The looks Mrs. Morey was throwing at her suggested she soon would be, but she couldn’t imagine what horrid misstep she’d committed since earlier that day when she’d seen the old bat.

Until she noticed where Mrs. Morey’s eyes were focused. On Brynne’s hand, which was still looped through Dr. Oliver’s crooked elbow. Brynne let go and took a small step away from the doctor. Mrs. Morey’s smugly pursed lips had Brynne clenching her fists within the folds of her skirts. She had half a mind to wrap her arms around the good doctor and kiss him senseless right in front of dear old Mrs. Morey simply to prove that she wouldn’t be intimidated. But Brynne would hate for her mother-in-law to suffer any repercussions because of her. Besides, it might give Dr. Oliver the wrong idea, and he had enough of those about her already.

“Richard, what a delight to see you,” Cora said, coming toward the doctor with outstretched hands. She greeted him warmly and pulled him toward a sofa. “You must stay for some refreshment and tell us how you came to meet up with our dear Brynne.”

“Ah, that is a tale that must be told another time, I’m afraid. I must be getting back to the clinic. I simply wanted to make sure Mrs. Forrester made it home safely.”

Cora pouted prettily. “You work too hard, my boy. You need to learn to enjoy life a little more.”

“Ah, no worries, my dear Mrs. Forrester, I am always sure to enjoy myself whenever time permits.”

“Will we see you at the Cabot’s ball on Friday?” Mrs. Morey asked, fairly oozing sickly sweet charm.

“Certainly. I wouldn’t miss it.” Before Mrs. Morey could reply, Richard turned to Brynne. “And will you be attending, Mrs. Forrester?”

Brynne hesitated. She hadn’t planned on attending. She turned down most invitations. She preferred to stay home with Coraline than squeeze her body into an impossibly tight corset and subject herself to a room full of disapproval from which there was no escape.

Cora saved her from having to answer. “But of course, she’ll be attending.”

Brynne turned surprised eyes to her mother-in-law, who gave her a subtle wink. So much for politely declining.

“Excellent. I shall look forward to seeing you there.” He took Brynne’s hand and kissed it. “Until Friday, Mrs. Forrester.”

Brynne resisted the urge to pull away from him, disengaging herself as quickly as politeness allowed. It didn’t fool him, if the arrogant smirk on his lips was any indication. He tipped his hat to Mrs. Morey and excused himself.

The second the door closed behind him, Mrs. Morey pounced. “How in the world did you end up on the arm of one of the most eligible bachelors in Boston? Are you feeling a bit under the weather? Dr. Oliver is a wonderful physician, to be sure, even if his clinic is a bit of a distance from here. There are several very fine doctors who will come to you, after all, and you needn’t worry about them being indiscreet, no matter what is ailing you. No need to travel all the way to Dr. Oliver to keep your malady private. I do hope it’s not serious, my dear.”

Her tone held a false note of friendly interest, but Brynne could see right through her. Brynne forced a smile, biting back the retort that threatened to erupt. “I am perfectly healthy, thank you Mrs. Morey. I was merely at his clinic to volunteer my services. I stayed to help when a wall collapsed at a building nearby and some men were injured.”

“Oh my dear,” she said, holding a handkerchief to her nose as if Brynne had been wallowing in filth. “Quite noble of you, to be sure, but spending so much time around such…unfortunates mightn’t be the wisest course of action. Although, it certainly afforded you an opportunity to gain the attention of our dear doctor.”

Brynne wasn’t sure what the woman accused her of, but she resented the hell out of it. Cora must have sensed Brynne was reaching the limit of her patience because she jumped in before Brynne could respond.

“Well, I think it was splendid of you to help those poor injured men. I do hope it wasn’t too trying for you.”

“Not at all. I was glad to be of help.”

“And you’ll be seeing Dr. Oliver again?” Mrs. Morey asked, her expression almost daring Brynne to say yes.

“Yes. I’ve offered to help at the clinic on a daily basis.”

Mrs. Morey laughed. “Oh my dear, what in the world could you possibly do to help? Change bedpans? Mop floors?”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed further. “If that is what is asked of me, yes. I’ve certainly done far worse.”

Mrs. Morey’s amusement faded and she fixed Brynne with a withering glare. “I hope you really are doing this out of the goodness of your heart and not under any ill-conceived notions that you might gain Dr. Oliver’s notice or favor by playing the saint. He’s had his eye on my Elizabeth for several years now and I won’t have you ruining her chances with him.”

Ah. And there it was. Mrs. Morey didn’t want Brynne interfering with her plans for her odious daughter. Brynne very much doubted Dr. Oliver had any interest in Elizabeth Morey. She was as mean-spirited and obnoxious as her mother and was as ugly as a mud fence. Not that Brynne had any intention of trying to take the doctor’s attention away from anyone. She was only interested in working at the clinic as a way to do something meaningful with her days, not as a way to snare a new husband.

But she couldn’t resist torturing Mrs. Morey a tad. “Oh,” she said, feigning surprise, “I wasn’t aware that Richard was interested in any of the young ladies in town.” The use of his Christian name felt odd on her tongue and she’d never address him so to his face, but watching Mrs. Morey try to contain herself at Brynne’s informal use of his name was priceless. “We spoke quite extensively today and he never mentioned your daughter.”

Mrs. Morey sputtered and Brynne threw in one more barb for good measure. “Don’t you worry, Mrs. Morey. I’m sure working in such close proximity with him every day will in no way interfere with whatever plans he may have in regards to your daughter.”

Cora sat on the sofa, her face as blank as she could make it, though Brynne could see how hard it was for her mother-in-law to keep herself together. Mrs. Morey excused herself very soon after, giving Brynne several parting glares as she flounced out of the house and Cora relaxed against the cushions with relief.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, I feared she’d never leave. I thought for sure she’d have a fit right here in our salon and we’d be forced to call your dear Richard back to see to her.”

Brynne’s lips twitched. “He is not my dear. Or my anything. I shouldn’t have needled her or led her to believe there was anything more between us than there is, but I couldn’t help myself. She is really worked up over this. Is he that great of a catch?”

Cora nodded. “Every momma of every unattached girl in the city is after the poor boy. He’s charming, utterly brilliant, and is connected to no fewer than five of the most influential families in the city by blood or marriage and by friendship or business to most of the rest of them. Throw in the fact that he has more money than a bank dipped in gold and a set of heavenly blue eyes that would make a woman twice my age swoon, and you’ve got yourself the most eligible bachelor in Boston.”

Brynne sighed. All she’d wanted to do was help at the clinic and ease a little boredom, and instead, she’d somehow managed to alienate herself even further from the group of societal mommas that could make or break her reputation. For herself, she didn’t care so much. But Lucy was getting older. At eighteen, she was certainly old enough to marry if she wished. The last thing Brynne wanted to do was ruin Lucy’s chances at being accepted. She had a hard enough road as it was, coming from the same rough-and-tumble background as Brynne. And Coraline didn’t need the stigma of a shunned mother following her for the rest of her days.

“As much as I hate to do anything that might make that old bag happy, I’ll make sure she knows I don’t have any designs on her darling doctor. In fact, the man is quite bothersome. I’ll only deal with him as much as necessary at the clinic. His virtue is quite safe from me.”

“If you say so, my dear,” Cora said. She dug out her needlepoint and started stitching, a smug smile barely concealed as she bowed her head to her task.

“Cora,” Brynne said, her voice full of warning.

“What?” Cora’s face practically shone with angelic innocence.

Brynne considered stopping the wild schemes and dreams she was sure were floating through her mother-in-law’s head, but knew it would do no good. She’d told the sweet woman a hundred times over that she had no intention of ever marrying again and Cora was equally as sure that she would. They’d come to a bit of an uneasy truce on the matter. However, Brynne had a sinking feeling that now that Cora had someone specific to set her sights on, the discussion might be revisited.

But for now, there was another subject that Brynne needed to discuss with Cora. One she’d been dreading. With the renovations of her home complete, it was time for her, Coraline, and Lucy to move into their own place. Leaving her in-laws was proving to be more difficult than she’d anticipated. Especially when she observed how happy Coraline was here. But it was time to stop beating the devil around the stump and get it over with.

Brynne was about to speak when the sound of tiny running feet and childish giggles rang through the corridor. Both Cora and Brynne turned toward the door, alight with anticipation.

Coraline flew into the room. “Momma!”

“Hello, my little chickabiddy.” Brynne scooped her up and nuzzled her neck. Coraline erupted in a shriek of giggles. Brynne watched her daughter laughing and her heart clenched. She snuggled into her, cuddling the little girl into her chest. No matter what sort of day she’d had, all it took was one moment in Coraline’s company and all was right with the world again.

“She looks so much like Jake,” Cora said, her voice pensive as she watched her granddaughter.

“She does,” Brynne agreed, smoothing Coraline’s black ringlets from her face. Coraline wiggled to get down and ran to her grandmother.

“Story! Story!”

“Why don’t we have Lucy read you a story,” Cora said, ringing her bell to summon one of the servants. “I think your Momma has something she needs to tell me.”

Brynne looked at her mother-in-law, surprised, not for the first time, at how astute the older woman was.

Beth, Brynne’s personal maid, came in and fetched Coraline, luring her away with promises of a sweet treat from the kitchens before she was taken to her aunt. Brynne smiled as they left. The whole household doted on her daughter. In fact, she and Coraline had been downright spoiled, fawned over at every turn by everyone in the Forrester’s household. They’d even welcomed Lucy with open arms. Which was another reason Brynne had delayed moving into her own home.

Still, after living under her in-laws’ roof for almost a year, Brynne longed for her own space again. She’d been used to being mistress of her own domain, taking care of not only her sisters, but a whole town.

She felt a sudden pang of homesickness for the Richardson ranch in California. The place where she’d grown up, met Jake, and fallen in love with him. She missed him so much sometimes she feared she’d go mad.

At least on the ranch, she’d had plenty to do to keep her occupied, keep her mind off what she’d lost. But here…here there were servants for everything. Servants who wouldn’t let her help, who seemed almost offended that she wanted to do things for herself. Brynne was so stifled and bored she felt a bit cracked. She hoped having her own household would go a little ways toward alleviating that. And it would certainly provide more freedom.

The Foresters’ attention bordered on oppressive, as was their determination that Brynne be accepted into Boston society. Cora meant well and did her best to let Brynne run her own life, but she didn’t always understand Brynne’s “quirks.” Such as Brynne’s need to be out in the fresh air, using her body for something more demanding than a barely breathing dress hanger. Brynne tried to squeeze a deep breath past her corset and sighed.

Well. Time to take charge of her own life again. She’d wallowed in her misery over Jake’s death long enough. She couldn’t hide with his family forever. It was time to start living again.

“Out with it, my dear,” Cora said, her kind tone softening the sharpness of her words. She took Brynne’s hand. “Your house is ready, isn’t it? Has been for some time, I’d wager…”

“Yes.” Brynne wasn’t even surprised the older woman knew her news. “It’s not that we haven’t been happy here…”

“I understand.” Cora patted her hand. But her eyes stayed creased with concern.

“But…” Brynne prompted.

“Boston isn’t quite as tolerant as California. You are a widow…living alone. There could be talk. I want you and Coraline to be accepted.”

Brynne snorted. “I think that ship sailed long ago.”

Cora gave her a good-natured scowl. “Perhaps. But there is no reason we must sink it before bringing it home again.”

“I won’t be alone. Lucy will be with me. And I’ve hired most of the staff I will need, in addition to those from the previous owners who have chosen to stay, so the household is nearly set up already. It will be perfectly respectable.”

Cora didn’t seem reassured.

“The house is really lovely. I can’t wait to show it to you. And remember, it’s very close. Just over on Cherry Hill Street, so you’ll still be able to see Coraline every day.”

“Yes, that is true,” Cora said, a genuine smile breaking out on her face.

“In fact, I was hoping you’d agree to mind after her in the mornings, when I volunteer at Dr. Oliver’s clinic.”

“You’ll be working with him every morning?”

Brynne narrowed her eyes. “I will be working in his clinic, not with him.”

“Still, that seems a very…worthy pursuit of your time.”

Brynne was going to argue, but decided she didn’t have the energy to fight a battle she’d never win. Nothing she said would change Cora’s mind.

“It will be wonderful to still have Coraline here every day. And I’d love to help in any other way that I can. I hope you know, my dear, if it doesn’t work out, or if you’d ever like to return, this will always be your home. Always.”

Brynne was surprised at the tears that pricked her eyes. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she and Coraline had showed up on the Foresters’ doorstep, with Lucy in tow to boot. Leo, Jake’s brother and her sister Priscilla’s husband, had written to his parents to tell them about Brynne and Coraline and apprise them of their impending arrival. But Brynne hadn’t been sure what their reception would be. The Forresters had been more welcoming than Brynne had ever dared hope.

She had already stayed far longer than she had anticipated. Frankly, her mother-in-law had made it very difficult to leave. It had been a long time since Brynne had been mothered by anyone. Her own mother had died many years ago and while their housekeeper Carmen had done her best to give the girls all the mothering they needed, it wasn’t the same. Bless Carmen’s loving heart, but she had been more of a drill sergeant than a mother. Then again, with Brynne and her two sisters, she’d had to be.

Cora had begun to fill the hole that had been left in Brynne’s heart when her mother had died. And Brynne loved being with Jake’s family, in the home where he’d grown up.

“The choice of your staff is of the utmost importance,” Cora said, breaking into Brynne’s reverie. “You said most of the staff is already in place?”

“Yes, the cook, kitchen staff, and household maids have been retained. There were a few who’d chosen to leave, but the cook had a niece looking for a position and one of the maids had a sister…”

“Good, very good. And the housekeeper?”

“Mrs. Krause. She’s agreed to stay on as well. The old butler was finding his duties a bit taxing but will stay on in another capacity, so I’ll need to find a new one. I have several appointments set up already.”

“A good butler is hard to come by, but I do know of one or two that are available, or can be bribed away from their current situations if your appointments don’t pan out,” Cora said with a conspiratorial wink.

“Perhaps I can lure Mr. Peterson away from you,” Brynne teased.

“Oh, I have no doubt that you could. Or Coraline could, in any case. One bat of those beautiful little eyes and Peterson will be packing his bags and high-tailing it to Cherry Hill Street.”

The staff at her in-law’s had been, for the most part, welcoming and friendly. Mr. Peterson had been a tough nut to crack. He got on well with Brynne now, and adored Coraline as much as the rest of the household. But he’d disapproved of Brynne’s independence and less-than-refined ways, especially her penchant for riding astride. He’d have a fair epileptic fit if he knew how she’d spent most of her time on horseback in California. If he regarded galloping through the park as scandalous, he’d never recover from the knowledge that Brynne had spent years behind a black bandana, raiding not-so-innocent victims of their ill-gotten gains as one of the notorious Blood Blade’s band of thieves.

How times have changed.

“When will you be leaving?” Cora asked with a slight hitch in her voice.

“I purchased the house fully furnished, so it is really only a matter of moving our personal belongings. I thought sometime this week…”

Cora nodded. “Well, we’ll miss having you here, to be sure. But I wish you much happiness in your new home.”

Brynne gave her mother-in-law a hug, glad that her news had been received so well. She should have known her mother-in-law would make it easy on her. She’d been smoothing the way for Brynne ever since she’d arrived in Boston. Brynne hoped she’d be able to repay the older woman someday. Or at the very least, not let her down.

Chapter Four

Richard climbed down from the carriage and dragged himself into the clinic. It had been a miserably long day. Though, one interesting development had arisen from it. Mrs. Brynne Forrester. She was an absolute mystery. And a beautiful one at that.

When she’d shown up at his clinic, he’d assumed she was like all the other bored ladies who had wandered through his door. They all wanted to either escape from their over-indulged lives in a perhaps genuine, but misguided, attempt to walk on the dodgy side for a bit. Or they wanted to gain his favor by feigning interest in his work. Both were a huge waste of everyone’s time.

But Mrs. Forrester had proven to be a surprise. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she had medical experience. How she had gained such experience was one of many things he wanted to discover about her. She looked like all the other genteel, refined ladies he knew, but he suspected there was a lot more to her smoldering under the surface, something much more wild and free than anything he’d ever come across before. His lips still twitched every time the phrase “backdoor trots” crossed his mind.

For the first time in his life, he was genuinely interested in getting to know a woman a little better. More than that. He was bound and determined to unearth all of the beautiful Mrs. Forrester’s secrets.

He entered the clinic and headed straight up the stairs, dodging Mrs. Birch. He was too tired to deal with her. She had an even worse opinion of the ladies who tried to use the clinic to catch his attention than he did, and he didn’t have the energy to talk her into accepting Mrs. Forrester graciously. He’d have to speak to her before Mrs. Forrester’s arrival Monday or things could get ugly.

Mrs. Birch was a wonderful housekeeper and managed to keep things running smoothly at the clinic as well. And he appreciated her protectiveness toward him. But it was trying at times.

When he reached his rooms, he kicked off his shoes and stripped, tossing his clothing to his waiting butler. Of course, butler was rather a broad term for all the jobs Mr. Chasely handled. He was butler, clinic administrator, valet, and anything else Richard needed him for.

Richard kept a strange household. Four days a week, his home served as a medical clinic for the community, especially for those who were unable or unwilling to go to the hospital. He also kept a few beds for those he needed to keep an eye on. But for the most part, once clinic hours ended, it was only him and his staff in the building.

The upper floors were reserved as his private residence, and Mrs. Birch ran them with the same efficiency she ran the clinic. Everything was clean, tidy, and well organized. And heaven help the person who disrupted Mrs. Birch’s tightly run ship. Richard had only just met the lovely Brynne Forrester, but he had the feeling she was the type who caused disruption wherever she went. Not through any deliberate action of her own, of course, but simply by being who she was.

Chasely scooped up the rest of Richard’s clothes and draped them over his arm. “Will there be anything else tonight, sir?”

“No, Chasely, that will be all.” Richard absentmindedly took a swig of the brandy that Chasely had left on his bedside table. “Actually, what can you tell me about Mrs. Brynne Forrester?”

“Oh, I suspect I know about as much as anyone, sir.”

Richard doubted that. Servants tended to be insanely well informed about anything having to do with their employers, and Chasely was even more informed than most. Richard paid him well to be sure of it.

“And what does everyone know about her?”

“She’s from out west, California, where she and her sisters own a ranch and a rather profitable gold mine.”

Richard’s eyebrows rose at that. “What of her late husband?”

“Jacob Forrester, son of Mr. Edward and Mrs. Cora Forrester.”

“Was he the one who went off adventuring and never came back?”

“So to speak, sir. I believe he tried his hand at bounty hunting for a time, or some such profession. No one is quite sure how he came to know Mrs. Forrester, but his family lost all contact with him soon after he informed them of his intentions toward her. His brother, Leonardo, went out to find him and is now married to Mrs. Forrester’s sister.”

Well, now, that was interesting. Both Forrester boys marrying sisters. Must be quite a family.

“How did her husband die?”

“They say he was murdered, although the Forresters took care to keep the more sordid details from the papers.”

“And now she lives here with the Forresters.”

“The renovations on her own residence were completed recently and she’s been busy retaining staff to run it. Mrs. Birch’s nephew has applied for a position there.”

“She’ll be living there alone?” Richard was surprised. It wasn’t unheard of, of course, for a widow to live alone. But since she hadn’t had her own household here to start with, it was a bit odd that she’d choose to live on her own.

“Not entirely alone, no sir. Her younger sister will most likely be living with her. And her daughter, of course.”

“She has a daughter?”

“Yes, sir.”

A widow alone with her child, whose husband had been murdered. Who moved all the way across the country to live with in-laws she’d never met, and who was now setting up her own household. The woman had gumption, that was for certain.

Chasely said goodnight and excused himself. Richard barely heard him leave. His mind was on Mrs. Forrester. Brynne. The way her deep brown eyes flashed when he’d said something to anger her. Her determination to get her way. Her soft voice as she’d spoken to the frightened boy she’d helped with the hands of a person who was no stranger to blood and trauma. Who was this woman who had walked into his life?

Richard couldn’t wait to find out.

…

Brynne held the letter in trembling hands, not reading it but staring at the way the letters scrawled across the page. Jake’s handwriting.

She looked up at the man who had brought it to her. A man she hadn’t seen in several years and never dreamed she’d see again. Mr. Finnegan Taggert sat across from her, his hat in his hands. He held himself proudly, but the way he twisted his hat around and around betrayed his nervousness. He had a right to be anxious. Brynne suspected he hadn’t been well received at any of the other households in Boston.

He was handsome enough, very handsome actually. But few would see it through the tattoos that marked his face. Several lines extended from beneath his lower lip down his chin, but it was the T shaped markings under his cheekbones that had made Brynne’s eyes raise when she’d first met him two years ago; and she’d been used to seeing strange people and sights.

Mr. Taggart noticed her staring and stood. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have come. I’ll see myself out.”

“Oh no, please, Mr. Taggart,” Brynne said, standing as well. “Please, stay.”

Mr. Taggart took his seat again and resumed his hat twisting.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Taggart. I’m being unforgivably rude. It’s only…I never thought I’d see you again, since the last time I saw you was when…when…”

“When I performed the marriage ceremony for you and Jake.”

To her utter embarrassment, tears filled her eyes and raised a lump in her throat. She’d hoped she was past such moments catching her unawares. It had been so long. But the sight of Mr. Taggart brought the memory of that wedding day rushing back.

She and Jake had loved each other so much. They couldn’t wait long enough for the town preacher to get back from his travels to marry them. When Mr. Taggart, an old friend of Jake’s, had come calling, it had seemed like a godsend. An Irishman who had become a member of the Mohave tribe, he had offered to marry them according to Mohave custom. They had viewed it as a type of hand fasting. They knew their union wouldn’t be legal, but in their eyes, it had been binding, and the legality issue could have been taken care of when the preacher returned. Only Jake hadn’t lived that long.

Lucy entered the room while Brynne was trying to compose herself. “Brynne, you must see my dress for the ball. It was just delivered, and it’s the most beautiful…oh.” Lucy stopped short and stared at Mr. Taggart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”

Brynne made a supreme effort to pull herself together. “Lucy, this is Mr. Finnegan Taggart. He was a friend of Jake’s. The one who married us, in fact.”

Lucy’s eyes grew wide and she gave Mr. Taggart a little head bob. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Taggart.”

“The pleasure is mine, Miss Lucy.”

Lucy remained frozen, her gaze never leaving his face. Her fascination began stretching into ill-mannered territory and Brynne cleared her throat to get Lucy’s attention. Lucy blinked, a delicate blush staining her cheeks. “I apologize, Mr. Taggart. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen tribal markings.”

His eyebrows rose a notch. “You recognize the marks?”

“Yes. We grew up farther north than the Mohave territories, but we still met quite a few.” Lucy’s eyes focused on the T-shaped marks on his cheeks. “You were an important man in the tribe.”

Surprise flared again in his eyes. He didn’t answer for a moment and then nodded once. “At one time, yes. But that was long ago.”

His tone left no room for more questions though Brynne could tell Lucy was dying to know what had happened to this man. She was curious as well. She’d only met him the once, and at the time, had been more interested in her marriage and new husband than the curious man who had bound them together. Mr. Taggart was obviously not Mohave by birth. How had he come to not only be accepted enough into their tribe to be tattooed, but to bear the markings only the most important men of the tribe wore?

Lucy still hadn’t pulled her gaze from Mr. Taggart, who was returning her regard with amused interest.

“Lucy,” Brynne said, “would you mind checking on my gown? Beth should be airing it out.”

Lucy reluctantly turned from Mr. Taggart. “Of course.”

She left the room, tossing a last gaze over her shoulder before she closed the door.

Brynne turned her attention back to the letter in her hands. “Jake speaks highly of you here.” She was glad her voice broke only slightly on her late husband’s name. She didn’t think life without him would ever get easier, but she did hope to be able to speak of him someday without her emotions coating her words. “He never told me how the two of you met.”

“Ah, well, that is quite a long story. You knew your husband’s profession before he became a ranch hand on your property?”

Brynne nodded. Jake, much to his affluent Bostonian family’s dismay, had longed for more adventure than a Harvard education could gain for him and had sought excitement out west. After a series of odd jobs, he had found his calling…as a bounty hunter. It was how they’d met, in fact. Jake had been after the bandit Blood Blade and his gang. He’d had no idea that the young rancher he had started working for in order to gain information was actually part of the bandit’s band. A band run by Brynne’s middle sister, Priscilla. By the time he’d found out, he’d been too in love with Brynne to turn her in. And once he’d understood the reasons behind their activities, he’d believed enough in their cause to join them himself.

“Were you one of the men he worked with? Or one of the men he’d been paid to find?” Brynne asked.

Mr. Taggart actually blushed. “One of the latter, I’m afraid. The circumstances behind it were all a big misunderstanding. Once Jake knew my story, he let me go.”

“You will have to tell me that story sometime, Mr. Taggart.”

“Sometime,” he said, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “Anyhow, I worked with him for a time, and once we parted ways, we kept in touch, even after I left for England. He gave me that letter to use as references should I ever be in need of employment. Which, as you are aware, I am now.”

“Yes,” Brynne said, reluctantly putting away the letter from her husband and pulling out Mr. Taggart’s other references. “These are certainly impressive recommendations. You worked for an actual duke?”

“Yes. Truthfully, his lordship was a bit of an odd bird, even by my standards. I started out as more of an exotic addition to his collection of oddities, but I found that I was actually rather good at running his household and I enjoyed the work. I oversaw both his familial estate and his London residence.”

“That’s unusual, is it not?”

“It is, and it was a bit of a hardship for me. But his lordship would have no one but me in charge of his households.”

Mr. Taggart’s pride in both his work and his previous employer’s faith in him was evident, as was his fondness for the old duke.

“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave his employ?”

His face hardened, the tattoos making him look quite fierce. “The duke passed away. His family didn’t see fit to retain my services.”

Brynne could understand their actions, though the longer she spent in his presence, the more she liked him. A wave of pity for him filled her and she dropped her gaze, knowing he would not welcome such an emotion from her.

“When he knew he wouldn’t recover, his lordship made sure I had his recommendations to take with me. However, I thought I might have better luck here than in Britain.”

His tone didn’t sound confident and Brynne could imagine what his experiences had been like thus far. She’d be surprised if he’d even made it past the door of any of his previous interviews.

She wavered for a moment. She generally had fairly good instincts about people and Mr. Taggart struck her as someone she could trust. He definitely had glowing references, and even her mother-in-law would be impressed with a butler who’d served an actual duke. However, one look at the man would send the elder Mrs. Forrester straight to bed for a month.

But he’d known Jake. Been his friend. Had officiated at their marriage ceremony. And he’d never find a position anywhere else.

“Well, Mr. Taggart….” The man’s face had already taken on a resigned look that made Brynne’s heart clench in a protective, almost motherly way. “I would be pleased to have you join my household, if you’d like to accept the position.”

His relief lent a softness to his face that gave Brynne a peek at what he might have been like before the experiences that led to the tattooing of his face, and the reason behind his leaving the tribe.

“I would be happy to, Mrs. Forrester.”

“Excellent. Well, we can work out all the details later. For now, why don’t we have Mrs. Krause show you to your room and you can get settled.”

“That would suit me very well, thank you, ma’am.”

They stood and Brynne rang the little bell to call the housekeeper in. Mrs. Krause bustled in, only sparing the barest of glances for Mr. Taggart. Her entire demeanor fairly shouted haughty disdain. Brynne frowned. She hoped Mrs. Krause wouldn’t cause too many problems. Brynne knew Mr. Taggart might take some getting used to, but she was hopeful that his references would go a long way to smoothing things over with the staff. She swore servants were nearly as arrogant as their employers. Some of them were very particular about who they’d deign to serve. Brynne had felt her fair share of cold stares and begrudgingly given courtesies.

Well, Mrs. Krause would have to get used to the idea. Brynne would hate to dismiss her. A good housekeeper was harder to find than a good butler. But if Mrs. Krause couldn’t accept Mr. Taggart’s authority, and more importantly, Brynne’s, then she’d have to be let go.

Here went nothing…

“Mrs. Krause, Mr. Taggart has kindly agreed to accept the position of butler for our household.”

The older woman’s nostrils flared and her eyes widened. She pinched her lips together and Brynne recognized the signs of a brewing argument so she hurried on, unwilling to get into a knock-down brawl with her housekeeper right there in the salon.

“If you could show him to his quarters and then perhaps give him the grand tour, that would be lovely. And then, please assemble the staff for me and I’ll make his formal introduction.”

Mrs. Krause’s face turned an unhealthy shade of red and she was clenching her teeth so tightly together the muscle of her jaw audibly popped. But she didn’t say anything, merely gave Brynne a cursory nod and stomped out of the room.

Mr. Taggart gathered his suitcase and turned to Brynne.

“Good luck,” she said to him. It felt woefully inadequate, but there was little else she could do at the moment. Hopefully, once the woman got over her initial shock, things would smooth over.

Mr. Taggart gave her a wry smile and said, “Thank you, ma’am,” before hurrying out after the housekeeper.

Brynne slumped back into her chair and picked up the letter from her husband again. She stared at his handwriting until the words started to blur. Then she reluctantly folded it up and put it in her desk.

She didn’t envy Mr. Taggart right now. But she had bigger things to worry about. She had to let her mother-in-law know who she’d just hired to be the face of her household.

Heaven help her.

Chapter Five

“Oh, madam. It’s simply beautiful,” Beth exclaimed, clapping her hands to her cheeks.

Brynne held the shimmering taffeta confection up to her chest so she could see it in the mirror. The deep red material brought out a becoming blush in her cheeks. It complimented her fairer skin and picked up the reddish highlights in her hair. The back of the gown erupted in a cascade of champagne colored flounces, which matched the simple, off-the-shoulder bodice. But Brynne’s favorite part was a corset piece in the same dark red as her skirt that was embellished with gold embroidery.

The style was a bit unusual, but so beautiful that Brynne hadn’t been able to pass it up when she’d seen it. It had been hanging in her closet for nigh on a year and while there had been many an occasion when she could have worn it, she’d always opted to remain at home instead of gadding about town. She wouldn’t be wearing it to the Cabot’s ball either had her mother-in-law not tricked her into going. Brynne muttered a silent curse at the woman’s well-meaning meddling. Truth be told, she was rather looking forward to wearing her forgotten finery.

Beth steered her toward her dressing table first so she could have her hair done in relative comfort before donning the voluminous gown. Brynne hadn’t attended many balls, despite her mother-in-law’s determined efforts to get her to go to a good many of them in the year that Brynne had been in Boston. She couldn’t muster the desire to hob-nob with Boston’s finest when the vast majority of them viewed her as something less than pleasant that must be endured for the sake of being polite.

But Richard Oliver would be at this ball. Brynne wasn’t quite sure what to think of him yet. His opinion of her appeared to be improving, which went a long way toward improving her own opinion of him. And he had agreed to let her volunteer at the clinic, which was also a mark in his favor. Those deep blue eyes and adorable dimple didn’t hurt either.

Brynne’s cheeks heated and she looked in the mirror at Beth’s reflection over her shoulder, hoping the maid hadn’t caught her tell-tale blush. But Beth was happily chattering on about the ball while she styled Brynne’s hair into an elegant coif.

When she was done, Brynne turned her head from side to side, smiling as the ringlets gathered on either side of her head softly brushed her cheeks.

“Thank you, Beth. It looks wonderful.”

Beth flushed with pride. “Now it’s time for your gown,” she said, nearly squealing with glee.

Brynne laughed. While she still felt like a cow being herded into the slaughter house, it was hard not to pick up a bit of the enthusiasm that fairly poured from her maid. Beth stuck her head into the hall and summoned Mary. They could probably manage on their own, but the help of the other maid would get the job accomplished faster, and with less potential damage to her hair.

Beth helped her step into her crinoline, and then she and Mary maneuvered her into the voluminous skirts. Beth carefully arranged them over the hoops and all three women sighed as the layers of taffeta pooled about Brynne’s feet. Brynne brushed her fingertips across the material. She’d truly never worn anything so lovely in all her born days. Her heart quickened its pace a bit as a small thread of excitement flowed through her. She still didn’t look forward to spending her evening with the hoity-toities, but their company was worth it for the chance to wear such a gown.

The outer girdle/corset made wearing her regular corset unnecessary, for which Brynne was truly grateful. Beth got her into the bodice, arranging the capped sleeves below the slope of her shoulders. And then the embroidered corset was fastened about her waist. Mary climbed beneath the folds of her skirts to help her slide into the black silk slippers.

Beth went to the dressing table and retrieved the jewelry Brynne would wear. Brynne hadn’t owned any jewelry before arriving in Boston, other than her husband’s wedding ring, her own thin gold band, and a small locket that contained a portrait of herself as a baby that Coraline had taken to wearing around the house. So these pieces had to be purchased especially to match the dress. While Brynne had never been one for frivolity, she would admit to a certain thrill at the chance to wear such beautiful gems.

Beth clasped the three-stranded pearl necklace about Brynne’s neck. The large center pendant hung above the swell of her breasts, the garnet in its filigreed gold setting winking in the light of the lamps. A matching pearl and garnet comb went into her hair, and twin miniature versions of her necklace encircled each wrist. Mary held out a Spanish-style shawl made of black lace and embroidered with a delicate gold floral design. Brynne felt like a princess.

Then both of the maids stood back and enjoyed their handiwork.

“Oh, madam. You look simply lovely,” Mary said.

Beth nodded in enthusiastic agreement. “You’ll be the toast of the ball, no mistake about it. Dr. Oliver won’t be able to take his eyes off of you.”

A small squeak of protesting surprise escaped Brynne’s lips. “I’m sure the good doctor will be far too busy to pay me any mind.”

“No man will be too busy to notice you tonight,” Beth assured her. “Some of those others you want to steer clear from, of course. They think because a woman is a widow, they can get away with taking liberties.”

Beth was beginning to sound more like a protective mother hen than a ladies maid. Brynne hid her amusement, touched that the girl cared.

“That doctor,” she continued, “he’s a good one. An honorable man. Never been even a smattering of scandal tied to his name. And all that work he does in his clinic? He’s a saint, that man. He’d be a good match,” she said, with a wink.

Brynne flushed at that. “Well, I’m not looking for a good match, or any match for that matter. I’m only going to make Mrs. Forrester happy. That is all.”

Beth and Mary exchanged a knowing glance that Brynne chose to ignore. She also ignored the small, inner voice that agreed with the maids. She was looking forward to seeing the doctor again. But she refused to acknowledge that, to herself or to anyone else.

Lucy entered, looking ravishing in a lavender hued work of art of ruffled tulle and lace. The women exclaimed over each other’s gowns, Lucy’s excitement nearly tangible in its exuberance.

The Forresters were waiting for them in the parlor and Cora came forward with an exclamation of delight.

“Oh, my dear girls, you look so lovely.”

Edward, her quiet, unassuming father-in-law, nodded his shy agreement and quickly kissed her cheek. “Quite lovely,” he said.

“Will it do? I know it’s a bit unusual.” Brynne’s hand fluttered to the embroidered corset at her waist.

“It’s absolutely breathtaking,” Cora said. “There’s a great deal to be said for standing out from the crowd.”

Perhaps, but not when you were trying to fit in. Maybe the dress had been a mistake. But it was too late now. Cora had grasped her elbow and was already leading her out the door to their waiting carriage.

…

The moment Brynne stepped into the Cabot’s grand hall, she wished she could run back out. It was, in a word, overwhelming. Between the opulence of the setting and the glittering throngs of society’s elite that graced the halls, Brynne found it difficult to keep her panic at bay. What had she been thinking? She didn’t belong here among the bejeweled and beribboned upper crust dancing and prattling her way through the marble-columned halls embellished with shimmering chandeliers, sparkling glass, and imported Italian marble.

But it was too late to escape. Cora led her around to various groups of chattering women, saying hello, nodding politely, and eventually stopping at a group that contained a few of Cora’s particular friends. And Mrs. Morey.

Mrs. Jacobs, the one woman in the group who had always been decent to Brynne, struck up a conversation with her and Lucy. “You look so lovely tonight, Mrs. Forrester. And you as well, Miss Richardson.”

“Thank you,” Brynne said, Lucy echoing her. “Your gown is beautiful.”

Mrs. Jacobs murmured her thanks, her cheeks blushing becomingly.

Cora gave Brynne a subtle wink and settled into a deep conversation with one of the women from her book club, content that Brynne had found a few friends to talk to.

The other women all smiled politely until the moment Cora turned her back. Then, one by one, they found an excuse to drift off. They weren’t outwardly rude and did nothing blatant that shouted their disapproval. It was much more subtle. A smile that didn’t quite reach the eyes, a nod of acknowledgment that was so lacking in movement it almost didn’t count as a nod at all.

Brynne was surprised they bothered to keep up pretenses at all.

“Mrs. Jacobs.” Mrs. Morey called to Brynne’s companion. “My dear, do come and tell Mrs. Springwell about that tonic that helped George.”

Mrs. Morey took Mrs. Jacobs’ arm and led her away from Brynne with barely a nod in Brynne’s direction. Mrs. Jacobs, bless her heart, attempted to draw Brynne along with them, but Mrs. Morey quickly waylaid her, whisking her away with a finesse that Brynne found almost admirable.

A corner of her mouth rose. Touché, you old bat.

Brynne turned to the other women left in their small circle, only to find them all deep in conversations with each other, a subtle turn of each back effectively shutting Brynne out.

“Excuse me,” Brynne murmured, seizing the opportunity to put them all out of their misery. She made her away through the throngs of party-goers, sticking to the outer recesses of the room in search of Lucy, who had disappeared as soon as Cora’s attention had been occupied. Brynne spotted her a few minutes later, happily twirling in the arms of some dashing young man. Brynne fought the slight twinge of jealousy she felt, glad that her sister was having a good time.

Brynne nodded politely whenever she bumped into someone, but with few exceptions, most didn’t bother to include her, and by this time, her sensibilities were feeling too fragile for her to force her presence. Her anger grew stronger with each subtle snub. She’d never done anything to these women. Except, of course, to commit the unpardonable sin of losing her husband to a horrendous crime and then refusing to retire from society at the ripe old age of twenty-three to mourn for the rest of her days. Oh no, she insisted upon being independent and doing something meaningful with her time. How dare she?

Brynne had worked herself into a righteous lather, which was fair ready to explode, when she heard someone behind her.

“So you were able to attend after all. I was beginning to wonder.”

Brynne spun about to find the good doctor gazing down at her.

“Would you do me the honor?”

He held his hand out with a slight bow. Brynne hesitated, belatedly realizing another reason she’d avoided these outings. She hated to admit to any weakness or deficiency, especially to a man who hadn’t had the highest confidence in her abilities when they’d first met. But…well, she had grown up on a ranch outside a tiny Californian town. Learning how to dance hadn’t been high on her list of priorities.

“Is something the matter?”

“Oh, well, no, it’s…”

A quiet burst of tittering erupted behind her and Brynne glanced over to see Mrs. Morey and her friends smirking behind their fans. Well, that settled it. Brynne raised her chin a notch, placed her hand firmly in Dr. Oliver’s, and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor.

He pulled her into his arms, wrapped his hand firmly about her waist, and spun her into the mass of swirling bodies.

Brynne stumbled and muttered an apology. Dr. Oliver smiled kindly at her. It took a few moments, but she finally figured out that if she allowed him to lead her, she could follow fairly easily.

Once she stopped concentrating so hard on where to put her feet, she began to concentrate on the rather large, warm hands that held her. She stumbled again and Dr. Oliver chuckled.

“Sorry. I didn’t have much opportunity for dancing back home.”

“You are doing splendidly,” he assured her. “So, if you didn’t spend your days dancing to your heart’s content, what did you do?”

“We didn’t have much time for frivolities, I’m afraid. The ranch took up all our time and what we had to spare was spent…helping any of our neighbors that needed it.”

“A very worthy use of your time, indeed.”

She’d almost told him exactly what sort of help she’d provided for her neighbors. Somehow, she didn’t believe he’d think her bandit activities would be very worthy.

“Yes, well. We were a bit isolated there. We had to look out for each other.”

“You must find life here very different.”

She laughed. “A bit. Some days, I do find myself with nothing more to do than barkin’ at a knot.”

Richard chuckled. Brynne bit her lip and tried again. “I mean, I have more time on my hands than I’d like.”

The music came to a close, but he did not release her. “Is that why you volunteered to help at the clinic?”

“Partly,” she said, stepping out of his arms. “I prefer to be useful.”

“Well, I’m sure we can find some task that is agreeable to you.”

Brynne nearly argued that she wasn’t offering to help only as long as the task was agreeable, but the notes of the next song began and the doctor again pulled her close.

“Pardon the assumption, but I don’t believe your dance card is full yet.”

Brynne almost snorted but refrained. “Nor is it likely to be.”

He tightened his hold on her waist and Brynne’s concentration slipped again. It had been a very long time since a man had touched her, let alone held her in his arms. She’d missed it.

“This lot can be a difficult one to breach, I’ll grant you that. But there are a few worth your attention.”

Not many that she’d seen. Would that be an unforgivably rude thing to point out?

The doctor chuckled and Brynne ducked her head to hide her flush. Apparently, her thoughts were plainly enough written on her face that she didn’t need to speak them aloud.

“I’ll introduce you to a few of the more agreeable ladies.”

A rush of genuine gratitude trickled throughout her. “Thank you. That is very kind of you.”

The music came to an end and, true to his word, Dr. Oliver led her to a group of women that included her mother-in-law, Lucy, and Mrs. Jacobs, who were deep in conversation, and several other friendly looking faces. And Mrs. Morey. Who immediately pounced upon the poor man.

“My dear Mrs. Morey. Would you do me the honor?” Dr. Oliver bowed and extended his hand. Mrs. Morey simpered and blushed like a woman a third her age and took his hand. He led her onto the dance floor, catching Brynne’s eye with a quick wink over his shoulder.

“Ah, my dear. Are you enjoying yourself?” Cora asked.

“Yes, I am,” Brynne said, surprised to realize it was true. The good doctor had made what had been a disastrous night rather pleasant.

Cora drew Brynne in to her side and introduced her to the women in the group. A few excused themselves as soon as they politely could. But a couple stayed and chatted with Brynne. Mrs. Jacobs brought over her sister-in-law and niece, who were both as friendly as she. It was refreshing to discover not every woman in the city harbored a cruel prejudice toward her, though Brynne still felt more like an exotic animal on display than a potential friend. Perhaps in time they would thaw.

And to be fair, she hadn’t always been very open to meeting new people. After the first few disastrous attempts, Brynne had taken to declining any invitations that did come her way and thwarting any effort Cora made to draw her into her social circle. Brynne supposed the fault didn’t entirely lay with others.

As the Forresters thanked their hostess for a delightful evening, Brynne found that she was glad that she had come. Despite the many whispers and snubs and subtle insults that had come her way during the night, she’d still found a few friendly faces with whom she’d passed a pleasant evening. And an intriguing doctor who had nearly convinced her that he might deserve a second chance before she rendered judgment.

When he sought her out before leaving in order to say goodbye and press a chaste kiss to the back of her hand, she decided perhaps he wasn’t as hopeless as she’d originally deemed.

“I will see you on Monday, Mrs. Forrester. Good night,” he said, bestowing a smile on her that would have charmed the knickers off a cat.

“Good night, Dr. Oliver.”

Brynne wasn’t sure what the next week would bring, but she was curious to find out.

Chapter Six

“All right, I believe we are ready to bind this for you,” Richard said. The poor fellow had slipped while carrying his pocket knife and now sported an impressive gash on his arm. Richard had stitched him up, but wanted to keep the arm immobile for a few days to ensure the man didn’t re-open the wound.

“Is it necessary to bind it to my chest, doc? I promise I won’t move it. I can’t stomach the notion of my arm being tied down.”

“Well, it really is important to keep it steady. It will only be for a few days.”

“But I won’t be able to work with my arm bound so.”

“Don’t you worry none,” Brynne said, reaching across the man to tie a large square of cloth around his neck to form a sling. “There now. This won’t be at all uncomfortable. It’ll lie here, all nice and cozy like.”

She arranged his arm in the sling and the man gave her a grateful smile. Richard had intended to bind the arm to the man’s chest much more securely, but Brynne’s sling would do the trick as long as the man was careful, and he looked as if he was much happier about the arrangement.

“Thank you, ma’am. I sure appreciate it.”

“No problem at all. Now you get on out of here and no more running about the house with knives in your hand. Keep that apple peeler in your pocket where it belongs.”

His patient chuckled. “Yes, ma’am.”

Richard smiled at her as she straightened the exam area. “You definitely have a way with the patients.”

Brynne shrugged. “They simply want to be patched up so they can go about their lives. I’ve always found it’s best to make things as easy as possible for them, especially if I want them to follow directions.”

“I agree. Well, you seem to have a lot of experience working with stubborn patients.”

Her lips twitched. “My sisters, mostly.”

“A bit accident prone, were they?”

The smile widened a fraction. “A bit.”

“I suppose there are all sorts of mishaps that can occur on a ranch.”

The smile disappeared. “Yes.”

Interesting. The more personal the questions he asked, the shorter her answers became. “You must miss your old home.”

Brynne glanced up at him, meeting his eyes. Richard froze. She’d been working side-by-side with him for several weeks, but she so rarely looked him straight in the eyes that Richard wasn’t quite sure what to do. He was afraid any sudden movements might spook her. He held absolutely still, waiting to see if she’d answer him.

She gave him a curt nod of her head and turned her attention to gathering the soiled linens from the bed.

A personal question, a no-word answer. The woman had talent.

Before he could say anything else, she murmured, “Excuse me,” and bustled out of the exam room with an armful of dirty linens. And spent the rest of the day avoiding him. Again.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to draw her out. She went about her work at the clinic with meticulous precision. And while she appeared to enjoy her work, as soon as she was finished, she bolted from the premises as if her skirts were on fire. When he addressed her, she answered him with short, to-the-point sentences, never deviating from the topic at hand.

He had to find a way to draw her out. He increasingly wanted to be the one to erase that haunting, sad look from her beautiful brown eyes. He wanted to see them sparkling in happiness, hear her laughter ringing through the room. She was a good woman. She deserved—

“Dr. Oliver,” Mrs. Birch said, for what Richard feared was not the first time. He realized he’d been standing staring at the doorway through which Mrs. Forrester had disappeared for what must have been several minutes.

He cleared his throat, trying to hide his embarrassment at being caught mooning over some woman. He hadn’t been this preoccupied with a woman since…well never.

“Dr. Oliver?”

Richard jerked his gaze from the doorway yet again. “Yes, Mrs. Birch. Pardon me, I must be a bit tired.”

She patted his hand. “I was asking if we should go ahead and close up for the night. There aren’t any more patients waiting to be seen and it’s nearly time.”

“Yes, of course. That would be—”

He caught a glimpse of Brynne near Mrs. Birch’s desk. Leaning over the book where they recorded the names and addresses of all his patients. She glanced around, then quickly looked down, her finger skimming down the page. She paused for a moment, then stood and marched purposefully to the door.

“Yes, Mrs. Birch, please close up,” Richard said, hurrying to the hall and grabbing his coat. He glanced out the window as he pulled on his coat, hat, and gloves. Brynne was having a word with her driver—who then nodded and drove off without her. Brynne started down the street, in the opposite direction from which she lived.

Richard waited a moment, then slipped outside.

What in heaven’s name was the woman doing?

He followed her down several streets, through the bustle of the marketplace as the vendors packed up their wares for the evening, ending up in a narrow alley. Richard waited until she’d turned the corner and then ran down the length of the alley, peeking around the corner until he caught sight of her again. She was a few feet away, standing in front of the doorway of one of the rundown homes that marked the lane.

She glanced around and he ducked back, careful not to let her see him. When he peeked back around it was to see her depositing a small leather bag at the door, nudging it as close to the door frame as she could manage. She slipped a small rose from her hat onto the bag, raised her fist, and banged on the door. And then sprinted back toward the alley as quickly as possible.

Richard didn’t have time to vacate his hiding place. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway as Brynne had apparently been aware of his presence. She showed no sign of surprise to find him lurking in her alley. Instead, as soon as she turned the corner, she shoved him against the wall and clapped a hand over his mouth, glaring at him and bringing a finger to her lips. He nodded and she released him.

Moments later, they could hear a door being opened.

“Is anyone there?”

Brynne again motioned to him to be silent. He nodded impatiently. He wasn’t sure what game she was playing at, but he was willing to follow along for a moment, if only to find out what she was up to.

“What’s this?”

A few moments of silence, then a gasp. “Bess! Bess, come see!”

The door closed.

Brynne peered around the corner. Richard followed suit, ignoring another glare she aimed at him. The bag she’d left on the doorstep was gone.

“What was in—hey!”

Richard had turned to find Brynne already heading toward the other end of the alley. He jogged to catch up to her. He pulled on her arm, just enough to get her to stop. She turned to him with an impatient sigh.

“What?”

Richard’s eyebrow rose a notch. “I catch you in one of the worst parts of town, leaving mysterious parcels on strangers’ doorsteps, and you really have to ask, ‘what’? What are you doing here? What was in that bag?”

Brynne’s lips pursed together and for a moment, he didn’t think she’d tell him. Finally, she blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Not here.”

“What?”

“Come with me.”

She didn’t wait for him to agree, but turned on her heel and exited the alley. He followed her to the corner of the block where her carriage waited for her. If her driver was surprised at Richard’s presence, he didn’t show it, but merely opened the carriage door for them to enter. As soon as they were inside, he continued.

“Now, what is going on?”

“That was the home of Mr. Greene. The man whose arm you stitched today. He was worried about not being able to work. I simply left him something to help alleviate his worry.”

Richard’s eyes widened. “Such as?”

“A bit of money. It’ll keep his family comfortable until he is able to provide for them again.”

Richard would bet his best hat that there had been more in that bag than she implied. But that wasn’t the issue of the moment.

“That is very noble of you to try to help him, but why couldn’t you have given it to him at the clinic? Traveling unaccompanied in this part of town is dangerous.”

Brynne snorted. “He wouldn’t have taken it at the clinic, especially from me. Men are proud, Dr. Oliver, in case you were not aware. Besides, I prefer to remain anonymous.”

“Well, that is all well and good, but it is still too dangerous for you to be gallivanting about on your own. Do you do this often?”

Brynne opened and closed her mouth a few times as if she were trying to come up with the right thing to say. “Not as often as I’d like.”

Before he could say another word, she continued. “You don’t need to worry about me, Dr. Oliver. I know how to take care of myself.”

Richard was going to argue, but the carriage rumbled to a halt and the driver opened the door. Richard was surprised to find he was back at the clinic.

“Good evening, Dr. Oliver,” Brynne said, clearly dismissing him.

“We’ll discuss this later. In the meantime, please promise me you won’t go out alone again. The next time you feel the need for this…activity, please let me know. I’d be very happy to accompany you.”

Brynne looked as surprised at his words as Richard was to have said them. He hadn’t meant to offer to be a party to her anonymous charity drops. He had to admit, it had been a bit thrilling to be a part of such a clandestine act. Especially one that brought so much joy to the receiver, if the tone of Mr. Greene’s voice had been any indication.

Brynne hesitated for a moment and then gave him a curt nod.

He got down from the carriage. “Good evening, Mrs. Forrester.”

Brynne nodded again and the driver closed the door.

…

Richard watched Brynne over the next few weeks. She never complained, never shied away from any task. And Mrs. Birch certainly set her to the worst of them, trying to get her to leave, quit. But Brynne went about them all with a smile on her face, often humming or singing to herself quietly as she went about emptying bedpans, cleaning up all manner of bodily fluids, and tending to festering sores. Despite the sometimes ghastly tasks, Brynne enjoyed her work. Even Mrs. Birch thawed when it was apparent that Brynne really was there to help and had no hidden agenda. And no designs on Dr. Oliver.

Richard frowned a bit at that. He didn’t enjoy the constant attention of every unattached lady in the city. But he was accustomed enough to it that Brynne’s total lack of interest in him was…noticeable. They hadn’t spoken in private again since he’d caught her in her act of charity. She hadn’t asked him to accompany her on any more drops, and he hoped she wasn’t going on them alone. He hadn’t had the opportunity to ask, as she was very careful not to be alone with him and seemed to go out of her way to avoid him.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

It took him a few days to find a task that would require them to spend some time together, but once he did, he lost no time in putting his plan into action. At the first available opportunity, Richard asked for Brynne’s assistance. She looked around for someone else who could help, but she was the only one available. She squared her shoulders and came toward him as if she were gearing up for battle. Curious. Was he that much of a threat?

He led her back into his office. Her gaze darted about as if she was marking her exits and he resisted the urge to laugh. Something told him she would take his amusement badly.

“What can I help you with, Dr. Oliver?”

“Please, sit down,” he said, gesturing to one of the chairs before his desk. She perched on the edge of the chair, only relaxing when he settled in behind his desk.

“Would you care to join me for a bit of refreshment before we dig into details?” He gestured to a scrumptious spread of tea, delicate little sandwiches, tiny cakes, and triangle toasts with small bowls of jam. Mrs. Birch spared no effort when preparing his afternoon snack. A bit too fancy for his tastes, but for once, he was grateful for her exuberance. He wanted to make a good impression.

Brynne surveyed the items before her, her mouth already open to refuse. Richard jumped in again before she could. “Please. You’ve been working all morning. I’m sure you could do with a bit of food.”

Brynne gave him a slight nod and accepted the cup of tea he held out to her. She selected a small cake and took a bite, her tongue darting out to catch a crumb. His eyes riveted to her mouth, to her plump lower lip that still bore a tiny smear of icing. He wondered what she’d do if he reached out and tasted it. Tasted her.

“Dr. Oliver?”

Richard blinked, bringing himself back to the task at hand. “Yes, sorry. Seems I could do with a bit of refreshment myself.” He forced a chuckle and buried his nose in his teacup.

“I asked what it was you needed my assistance with.”

“Oh. Yes. Well, it’s a rather mundane task, I’m afraid. Some of my files were damaged when part of the roof leaked last spring and it really is vital that I transcribe them before they deteriorate to the point where they are illegible. I’ve been attempting to do them myself, but it’s taking much longer than I’d hoped. If you’d be willing to assist me, I’d be forever in your debt.”

“Couldn’t Mrs. Birch? I’m sure she—”

“Mrs. Birch is always willing to lend a hand at whatever task I might have, however her penmanship is somewhat…less than desirable,” he said with a small smile.

Brynne was silent and for a moment, he feared she might refuse. Thankfully, she nodded. “If I can be of some assistance to you, I will do what I can.”

“Excellent. Well then, that is settled. Perhaps we could get started after I’ve seen my patients this afternoon?”

“I’m afraid I can’t this afternoon. I must get home to my daughter.”

“Ah yes, I’d heard you had a child. How old is she?”

“Coraline is almost three,” Brynne answered. She fidgeted with her skirts, plucking non-existent lint from their folds.

Her daughter apparently fell into the “too personal to discuss” category. Well, he’d have to try and change that.

“Coraline. Named for her grandmother I presume?”

“Yes.”

Richard waited for a moment, but as Brynne didn’t seem to be forthcoming with any additional information and didn’t seem interested in more refreshments, he decided to ease up on his prying. For the moment.

“Well, if she’s anything like her mother, she must be a delightful child.”

Brynne blushed, but he didn’t torture her further. He stood and she followed suit, her face relaxing into lines of relief.

“If afternoons won’t do, would you be able to come in a bit earlier tomorrow morning? We might be able to make some headway before my first patients arrive.”

Brynne nodded. “I could be here by eight o’clock.”

“That would be perfect.”

“Well then, I will be heading home, if there is nothing else you needed to speak to me about.”

There was plenty he wanted to speak to her about, but he was going to have to take his time. She was strong-minded and independent to be sure. But she also reminded him of a skittish horse he’d seen at a fair once. One wrong move and she’d bolt.

“I will see you in the morning, Mrs. Forrester.”

Richard pinned his most charming smile on his lips and aimed its full strength at her. She simply stared for a moment, twitched her lips, and left the room.

His smile faded. For the first time in his life, he was at a loss at how to proceed. He’d never had to work to get a lady’s attention before. Quite the opposite.

When Mrs. Birch came in, he was still staring at the door, his brow furrowed. She took one look at him and snorted, muttering something under her breath. Richard frowned at her.

“Oh, out with it if you’ve got something to say.”

Mrs. Birch bustled around, clearing up the tea service. “That woman doesn’t want anything to do with you. Or any other man, I’d wager. You’ve got females aplenty who’d give their best bonnet and then some for you to turn those pretty blue eyes of yours their way. Why don’t you set your sights on one of them?”

Richard scowled. “Yes, and they are all alike. Every one more spoiled and prissy than the one before. I swear it’s getting so I can’t even tell them apart anymore. She’s…different.”

Mrs. Birch snorted again as she lugged the tray out of the room. “Men. Always wanting what they can’t have.”

Richard wondered if she had a point. Did he only want the mysterious Mrs. Forrester because she didn’t want him?

The more he contemplated it, the more he dismissed the notion. He was honest enough with himself to admit that her disinterest piqued his competitive side. But he refused to believe that was all there was to it.

Mrs. Forrester was intelligent, strong, and beautiful. And held a world of pain and secrets behind her deep brown eyes. Secrets he vowed to discover.

And his plan was already set in motion. He couldn’t wait until the next morning.

Chapter Seven

The next morning came and went. No Brynne. No message.

As soon as his last patient left, Richard grabbed his coat, hailed a hackney carriage and gave the driver the Forresters’ address. He was shown into the drawing room where the elder Mrs. Forrester sat with her needlework.

“Dr. Oliver, what a wonderful surprise. To what do we owe the pleasure?”

“I, ah…I actually came to call on your daughter-in-law. She had promised to help me with a project at the clinic but did not come. I wanted to make sure everything was all right.”

Mrs. Forrester fixed him with a knowing glance. He had no doubt she knew exactly what he was up to. Luckily, she seemed to approve. Good. He could use an ally.

“I’m afraid my daughter-in-law no longer lives here.”

Richard cursed his forgetfulness. Chasely had told him of her recently renovated home. It had completely slipped his mind.

He released a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. She wasn’t at hand, but she was still nearby.

Mrs. Forrester looked back at the needlepoint in her lap, tactfully trying to hide her amusement. “She lives over on Cherry Hill Street. Usually, Coraline comes to visit me while Brynne is at the clinic, but she sent a note that the little one was feeling poorly this morning.”

Richard frowned. He hoped the little girl was okay. And why hadn’t her mother bothered to send him a note?

“Her message said that Coraline had a bit of a cold, but I’m sure Brynne would be happy to see you. Perhaps you could take a look at my granddaughter to be sure everything is all right.”

“Of course, I’d be delighted to be of assistance.” Richard’s mood lightened considerably. Now he had the perfect excuse to drop in on her unannounced. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I will head over there now.”

He tipped his hat in Mrs. Forrester’s direction and spun about on his heels. Before he could reach the door he realized he didn’t have Brynne’s address and turned back around.

“Number 412,” Mrs. Forrester said with a grin.

“Thank you,” Richard replied, turning before she saw his embarrassment. He hurried outside, hailed a hack, and within moments, was on his way to Brynne’s new residence.

The carriage pulled up in front of an older four-story townhouse, lovely with its red brick and ivy climbing the walls. Richard grabbed the medical bag he never left the clinic without and mounted the steps leading to Brynne’s door. He rang the bell and waited impatiently for it to open. When it finally did, he moved to enter, already handing his gloves and hat to the butler.

But instead of politely inviting him inside, the butler blocked his path. Richard stopped short, still holding out his hat and gloves, and froze as he got a good look at the man. The butler let him look and his eyes narrowed coldly as Richard’s gaze raked over his face, pausing on his tattoos. Richard quickly collected himself and did his best to hide his shock from the man.

“I am Doctor Richard Oliver, come to call on Mrs. Forrester.”

“I’m afraid Mrs. Forrester is unable to take callers at this time,” the butler said. Richard was surprised at how deep and cultured the man’s voice was. Not at all the type of voice he’d expect from a man with a face full of tattoos.

Richard cleared his throat. “Yes, I’m aware that Mrs. Forrester’s daughter isn’t feeling very well today. Her mother-in-law asked me to stop by and take a look at her.”

The butler regarded him for a moment longer and then nodded and moved aside so Richard could enter. He took Richard’s hat and gloves and led the way to the fashionably decorated salon. “I’ll let Mrs. Forrester know you are here, sir. If you’d be so kind as to wait a moment?”

Richard perched on the edge of a sofa. His qualms about Brynne being unprotected from outside strangers had diminished considerably. No one would get by the intimidating man guarding her door. However, the fact that that intimidating man lived in the same home as Brynne was a cause for great concern. How in the world had she come to employ such a man? Richard had to admit, he couldn’t fault the butler’s manners or conduct. If it were not for the facial tattoos, Richard wouldn’t have given him a second thought.

Brynne opened the door to the salon and the sight of her erased all else from his mind. She looked lovely in a pale lavender gown, her chestnut tresses parted in the middle and swept into a soft bun at the nape of her neck. Richard stood and went to her without making any conscious decision to do so. He simply couldn’t remain a room’s length away from her.

“Thank you for coming, Dr. Oliver. I do apologize for not sending a note, but it has been a busy day.”

Richard took her hand and kissed the back. “Don’t worry about it at all. Your mother-in-law said that your daughter wasn’t feeling well today. I thought I’d come by and give her a quick look-see.”

“Oh, that’s very kind of you, but I’m sure it will be a waste of your time. It’s only a simple cold. But Coraline likes to have me with her when she’s feeling ill.”

“It would be no trouble at all. I’d be happy to take a look at her.”

Brynne hesitated but in the end nodded and led him out of the salon and up a flight of stairs. They passed some open doors, bedrooms that looked neat and tidy, but unoccupied, before entering the large master suite. Brynne’s cheeks flushed becomingly as she stood aside for him to enter.

“There is a nursery on the third floor, but I prefer to have Coraline close to me. She sleeps in the room adjoining mine, but she wanted to sleep with me last night and I didn’t want to move her.”

Warmth spread through Richard at the image of Brynne sleeping snuggled with her child all night. His own mother, while he knew she loved him, had left his main care to his nurse. He’d never been allowed to step foot into his mother’s bedroom, let alone spend the night sleeping curled up with her, no matter how poorly he’d felt.

“Your daughter is a very lucky little girl to have such a mother as you.”

Brynne’s cheeks flushed even hotter. She didn’t respond to his compliment, but instead walked over to the bed and sat down on the mattress beside a chubby-cheeked little girl with black ringlets. She looked like an angel snuggled down among the pillows and quilts.

“Coraline, this is Dr. Oliver. He’s come to see how you are feeling.”

Richard bent over the little girl. “Hello there.”

“Hello,” she answered, her voice soft and a bit hoarse, but not at all hesitant or afraid. She was her mother’s daughter for sure.

“How are we feeling today?” he asked, resting his hand against her forehead for a moment. Warm, but not distressingly so.

“My nose hurts,” she said, tapping her finger on her nose a few times.

“Yes, it does sound a bit stuffy.”

Coraline nodded solemnly and warmth spread through Richard’s heart. What an absolute sweetheart. A young woman bustled in with a tray laden with what smelled like chicken soup. Richard nodded approvingly.

“Well, you must make sure to get plenty of rest and drink all your broth. Stay nice and warm and listen to your momma.”

“Yes, sir,” Coraline said quietly, giving him a shy smile. Richard smiled back at her, thoroughly charmed.

Richard looked up to find the young woman staring at him with an amused and curious expression on her face. Now that he was looking more closely, the young lady looked remarkably like Brynne, very pretty with thick dark hair framing a pert, expressive face.

“I’m Lucy,” she said, not waiting for Brynne to introduce them.

He grinned, more taken with her exuberance than surprised by her forwardness.

“Very pleased to meet you, Miss Lucy. You must be Mrs. Forrester’s sister.”

“That would be me,” Lucy said, bestowing a huge grin on him. “One of them, in any case.”

“Ah yes, the other is still out west, in California, if I’m not mistaken.”

Before Lucy could answer, Brynne stood. “Dr. Oliver, why don’t we speak downstairs so Coraline can eat.”

Coraline’s little face puckered in distress, her hand on her belly. “Don’t want it, Momma.”

Richard frowned and bent down, smoothing Coraline’s curls away from her face and feeling her forehead again in the process. A bit warmer.

“Uh oh,” she whispered.

Richard jerked back, but not soon enough. The front of his suit was splattered in whatever Coraline had managed to get down earlier that day. He looked up at Brynne, who stared at him, eyes wide with surprised horror. Coraline whimpered, then hunched forward and vomited again. Avoiding being covered in the mess was a moot point, so Richard simply wrapped his arm about the little girl and held her until she’d finished.

She lay back, her pale face crumpling as she realized what she’d done. Her lip trembled. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you worry about it at all,” Richard said. “Luckily, you got it all over me and not a drop on your bedding. Very smart of you,” he said with a wink. He pulled the covers back up to her chin, careful not to move too much. “Perhaps it would be best to wait a bit on the soup, eh?”

Coraline nodded and gave him a tiny smile that melted his heart into a puddle of warm fuzziness.

Brynne hurried forward with a cloth and mopped up the worst of the mess while he held as still as possible. Lucy handed him a glass of water that he offered to Coraline. She took a couple sips and settled back into her pillows, curling on her side with a sigh.

Brynne kneeled down by her daughter’s side and kissed her forehead. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“All right, Momma.”

Lucy settled down next to the little girl. Brynne gestured for Richard to follow her. She led him into a bedroom at the far end of the hall and rang a bell. Then she poured some water from the ewer into the basin and dampened a towel for him.

“I am so sorry, Dr. Oliver.”

He stripped his soiled coat and vest, chuckling as he mopped up any spatter that had hit bare skin. “No worries at all, Mrs. Forrester. It certainly isn’t the first time I’ve been in the line of fire.”

Brynne smiled and Richard stopped his ministrations as the expression transformed her face. She was beautiful under the worst of circumstances, but when she smiled, she literally took his breath away. What he wouldn’t give to make the woman laugh.

A maid hurried into the room, her eyes wide. Richard wasn’t sure which sight shocked her more. The fact that her mistress was standing in a bedroom with a man, or his…disheveled appearance.

“Mary, could you ask Taggart to find some clothing for Dr. Oliver? I’m afraid there was a bit of a mishap with Coraline.”

“Yes, Mrs. Forrester.” The girl scurried out again, throwing a curious glance over her shoulder as she went.

Richard and Brynne stood in awkward silence. Brynne plucked at her skirts. “I am sorry I didn’t send a note around, but I got busy with Coraline and…”

He waved her off. “No need to apologize, I completely understand. Your daughter, of course, must be your top priority.”

“Why did you…I mean, was there something you needed?”

“Forgive me for barging in on you. There wasn’t much going on at the clinic this morning, so I was hoping that we could get started on the transcriptions. When you didn’t come in and didn’t send word, I was a bit concerned and since I had the free time, I thought I’d drop in for a visit. Make sure that all was well.”

“How did you know where I live?”

“Your mother-in-law gave me your address.”

“Of course,” she said with a slight blush. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t come to the clinic today…”

“Oh, of course. Those can wait until you are able to return. I only wanted to assure myself that you were well.”

Brynne’s mouth dropped open, a bit taken aback. As well she should, he supposed. After all, they didn’t know each other that well, and it certainly would have sufficed to have sent a messenger to find out why she hadn’t been able to come. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking, stopping by her home uninvited.

That wasn’t true. He knew what he’d been thinking. His near compulsive need to spend time with the woman was getting out of hand. He couldn’t get her off his mind. He’d never had a woman react to him, or not react to him, the way Brynne did. It was becoming an almost fanatical aspiration to get a rise out of her. It was distracting and beginning to affect not only his personal life but his professional one as well, which was unacceptable.

He found himself thinking of her, wondering about her, far too often. It was more than what had happened to her husband, though that would be enough to scar any woman for life. No, whatever she was hiding didn’t have to do with her husband’s untimely death. After all, that was common knowledge. Brynne acted like a woman with secrets. And he was determined to discover what they were. Maybe once he did, this ridiculous obsession with her would fade. She was attractive, to be sure, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t interested in her, but he wanted to know what he was getting into before he became romantically involved with her. If she’d even have him.

That idea startled him out of his daze. He’d never considered before that a woman wouldn’t want him. He’d never come across one that didn’t. And if that didn’t make him sound like a conceited prat, he didn’t know what did.

He tried to force all such thoughts from his mind and was about to give Brynne his apologies and excuse himself as quickly as decency allowed, when Brynne spoke.

“That was very kind of you. I’m glad you came.”

Richard started to respond but froze when the strange Taggart entered the room, his arms full of clothing.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m afraid the only men’s clothing in the house is my own. I hope these will do.”

Richard accepted the bundle from the butler. “Thank you. These will be fine, I’m sure. Anything would be preferable to what I’m currently wearing.”

The butler smiled even while his nose twitched. The smell coming from Richard really was quite ghastly.

“I’ll return these as soon as possible,” he assured the man.

“There is no hurry, sir. If you’ll leave the clothes you are wearing on the bed, I’ll see that they are laundered.” Taggart turned to Brynne. “Is there anything else, ma’am?”

“No, Taggart, that will be all, thank you.”

He bowed slightly in Brynne’s direction and turned to leave, almost bumping into Lucy on the way out.

“Excuse me, Miss Lucy.”

Lucy flushed prettily as she beamed up at Taggart. “It was my fault entirely. I can be such an oaf sometimes.”

Taggart ducked his head, his lips pulled into a smile that a butler had no business bestowing on his employer’s young sister, and left the room. Lucy’s gaze followed him until he was out of sight.

Richard wondered if he should warn Brynne about keeping an eye on her sister and Mr. Taggart, but judging by the frown on her face, Brynne was already aware of that fact.

Lucy sauntered in. “Coraline is asleep, the poor little dear. I’ve got her all tucked in, snug as a bug.”

“Thank you, Lucy,” Brynne said.

Lucy nodded and spun about, fairly skipping from the room. Brynne opened her mouth to call after her sister, but decided against it. Instead, she turned to Richard. “Well, I’ll leave you to change. I really feel dreadful about…”

Richard waved her off. “Don’t trouble yourself about it at all. I’ve never been vomited on by a more enchanting child.”

A startled laugh erupted from Brynne, a funny, throaty chuckle that had Richard breaking out in a grin. He’d never heard a woman laugh quite like it before. Full-throated, from the belly, deep and pure laughter. Nothing like the simpering, “lady-like” giggles from the ladies in whose company he usually spent his time. Brynne’s laugh was entirely like her; alive, invigorating, and infectious. He could listen to it all day.

“Well, then. I’ll excuse myself while you…change. I’ll make sure Coraline is settled. Perhaps, as you are here already…my cook has promised an especially delectable supper, trying to tempt Coraline to eat. Would you…would you care to join us?”

Richard did his best to hide his flush of pleasure at her hesitant invitation. “I’d be delighted to join you.”

“I’ll go tell Taggart we’ll be one more then.” Brynne gave him a small smile and quickly left.

A few hours with the mysterious Brynne Forrester. He stripped off his reeking shirt. It was beginning to look like a good day after all.

Chapter Eight

Brynne sent Charlie off with her note of apology with a heavy heart. Richard would surely believe she was purposely trying to get out of her agreement to help him with his documents. But while Coraline was feeling better, Lucy was not, and Cora had other engagements that morning and couldn’t keep Coraline for her. She could leave her with Mrs. Krause, but Brynne didn’t want to do that. Mrs. Krause was an excellent housekeeper, but she wasn’t the most nurturing woman when it came to children.

So, there was no help for it. She’d had to desert Richard once again.

Not an hour had passed when there was a knock at the front door. Mrs. Krause opened it to reveal a smiling Richard, his arms laden with boxes. His man, also burdened with a large box, followed him in.

Brynne’s eyes widened. “Are you moving in?”

Mrs. Krause’s jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed in disapproval. Brynne’s stomach sank. Would she never learn to mind her mouth? It was too late. The suggestive comment was out there.

But Richard laughed, immediately easing Brynne’s worries.

“Not today, no,” he said with a wink that sent a bolt of heat straight through her. “I received your note and I thought since you were unable to come to me, perhaps it would be easier if I came to you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. What a nuisance for you.”

“Not at all. On the contrary, working somewhere other than my office will do me a world of good. I spend far too much time in there.”

Brynne nodded in agreement. That was certainly the truth.

“Perhaps we could work in your library?” Richard suggested, gesturing in that general direction with his overburdened arms.

“Yes, of course.” Brynne chastised herself for leaving them standing in the foyer and led the way to the library.

Richard deposited his boxes on the floor near a desk and then took the box his man was carrying.

“Are these all documents?” Brynne asked, a bit dismayed at how many papers the boxes must contain.

Richard chuckled. “Not quite. These are the documents,” he said, pointing to the boxes by the desk. “But that one is for Coraline.”

“Coraline?”

The child in question chose that moment to come bounding into the room. She ran to Brynne, wrapping Brynne’s knees in her exuberant grasp and gazing at Richard from behind her mother’s skirts.

“Coraline, you remember Dr. Oliver.”

Coraline nodded and gave Richard a shy smile.

Richard knelt by the large box and gestured for Coraline to come to him. “I was wondering if you could help me,” he said to her as he opened the box.

Richard extracted a marionette dressed as a prince and Coraline gasped in delight. “You see, I’ve had this box cluttering up my attic for years and I really need the space. But I hate to say goodbye to all my childhood friends. Would you like to keep them company for me?” He pulled out another dressed as a princess, and a third dressed as a court jester.

Coraline gazed up at Richard in awe, her little face a picture of enchantment. “Yes, sir.”

“Splendid. Perhaps you can get to know them while your mother and I work.”

Coraline nodded eagerly. Richard spent a few minutes helping Coraline set up the small puppet theater that came with them and showing her how to jerk the strings on the puppets to make them move while Brynne watched them play and tried not to blubber.

When Richard left Coraline to her play and came back to begin work on the documents, Brynne grabbed his hand before she could stop herself. “Thank you, Dr. Oliver. That was very kind.”

Richard gave her hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s the least I can do, really, considering that I’ve invaded her home in order to steal her mother away to do my transcribing drudgery.”

Brynne laughed, letting the warmth from Richard’s smile seep into her. “Well, then. Let’s get started.”

“At your pleasure, madam,” he said with a devilish grin.

Brynne couldn’t help but wonder what, exactly, they were starting. Somehow, it felt as though it was much more than a simple secretarial task.

Time would tell, she supposed, as she stole another glance at the handsome doctor. Time would tell.

…

Brynne stared at Richard through the curtain of her eyelashes as he bent his head over the document he was transcribing. His tongue darted out and did a quick swipe of his bottom lip, a scrape of his teeth over the same area—an adorable gesture Brynne noticed he did whenever he was concentrating. The movement of his lips highlighted the dimple in his left cheek, the overall effect of which was Brynne’s complete inability to concentrate on anything other than that full, delicious-looking mouth.

Which was smiling. At her.

Heat flooded Brynne’s cheeks and she immediately dropped her gaze and fumbled about with the papers in front of her. They’d been working on the papers for weeks, Richard coming to her house each morning. His visits had been noticed, and naturally, tongues had been wagging like a pack of puppies with a barnyard of bones, as Cilla would say. But Richard didn’t seem to mind the gossip. And neither, to her surprise, did Brynne. They weren’t doing anything untoward, and she was enjoying his company. Let the Mrs. Morey’s of the world spread the scuttlebutt until they were blue in the face.

The notes Brynne was transcribing were actually rather interesting. Richard’s observations of certain treatments, which remedies worked best, specific cases and patients described with painstaking detail. Every word demonstrated Richard’s love for, and dedication to, his profession.

Brynne absentmindedly chewed on the wooden shaft of her steel-nibbed pen as she perused the papers. The silence in the room caught her attention and she glanced up, catching Richard as he stared at her, his gaze riveted to the wood between her lips. Brynne blushed again, but Richard didn’t drop his gaze. Instead, he laid aside his pen. “Let’s take a break, shall we?”

Brynne nodded. It had been a slow day at the clinic, so Richard had stayed to continue working on the transcriptions and they’d been at it several hours. “A break sounds heavenly.”

Richard tugged on the bell rope that would summon a servant and when Taggart appeared he said, “Is everything ready?”

Taggart nodded. “Yes, sir. Would you like the carriage brought around now?”

“Yes, thank you. And please tell Miss Lucy.”

Taggart nodded and ducked back out the door.

Brynne frowned. “Is what ready? Tell Lucy what?”

Richard held his arm out to her. “We’ve been working so hard on these blasted papers I decided we deserved a treat today.”

He led her out of the library and Brynne’s eyes widened a bit to find Lucy and Coraline waiting for them in the foyer.

Coraline ran up to her mother, bouncing up and down in her excitement. “Picnic, Momma, picnic!”

Brynne took Coraline’s hand and looked up at Richard. “Well, aren’t you full of surprises.”

“It would be unpardonable not to take advantage of such an unseasonably beautiful day.”

When they arrived at the park, a full picnic spread had already been set up for them. Richard had been right about the weather. Despite a slight nip in the air, the skies were clear with a breeze strong enough for kite flying, but not so strong as to ruin their fun. After cramming her lunch down as quickly as possible, Coraline beseeched Lucy to help her fly the kite Richard had presented her with. Richard went with them, helping to get the magnificent rainbow-colored kite airborne.

Brynne’s heart skipped a beat or two as she watched Richard with her daughter. He bent over to help her with the kite string and Coraline laughed, her body nearly trembling with excitement as she watched the kite dip and soar in the sky. Lucy took over after a few moments and Richard made his way back to Brynne.

“You’ll spoil her,” Brynne half-heartedly warned.

Richard chuckled. “She’s an angel. She deserves to be spoiled.” He watched Coraline with genuine affection while she shrieked with delight and Brynne’s heart skipped again.

“Thank you for today. You’ve made her very happy.”

Richard’s gaze turned to Brynne, his blue eyes washing over her with an intensity that nearly took her breath away. “And what of you? Have I made you happy?”

Lucy would probably advise her to play coy. Cilla would be all for keeping her emotions to herself until she was completely sure they couldn’t be used against her. But Brynne didn’t want to play any games. So she simply answered honestly. “Yes. Very happy.”

He took her hand and kissed it before entwining his fingers with hers. “Then it has been my very great pleasure. One which I hope to repeat often.”

Brynne took a tremulous breath, warmth flooding through her. She hoped so, too.

…

Brynne sat across from Richard at her favorite café, wondering how she had managed to get herself into such a position. She was fairly sure Richard was courting her, though she wasn’t sure exactly when that had happened.

He’d rarely missed a morning to work on transcribing his damaged documents. She’d realized after the first page that the task was one he could have easily set to anyone, despite his protestations to the contrary. And the task that might have taken one person a week, at most, had taken the two of them nearly a month to complete. It was obviously a ploy to spend time alone with her, something that Brynne knew she should have discouraged.

But instead of saying anything about it, she’d kept quiet. She wasn’t sure why. With her own home to run, her daughter to care for, and her work at the clinic, she was no longer bored. She enjoyed Richard’s company, but that in and of itself was an excellent reason to have discontinued their little sessions. He might possibly misconstrue her enjoyment of his company for romantic interest. And while she found him attractive, very attractive, every time she even began to envision herself with him, an image of her husband, with his laughing eyes and larger than life personality, would pop into her head and fill her with guilt. Yet, she’d said nothing and had continued to allow Richard to call on her.

Brynne knew many widows married again. But she couldn’t seem to overcome the emotions that overwhelmed her every time she thought of Jake. They’d had such a short time together before he was ripped from her by her sadistic half-brother, his life snuffed out to further Frank’s plans to take over their town.

And then there was Coraline. Brynne had a duty to her. Her life should be devoted to raising her child, teaching her everything she could about her father…not introducing a new man to take his place. No matter how wonderful that man might be.

Now their task was nearly finished. It was for the best, although Brynne’s heart clenched at the notion of giving up her private time with Richard every day. She’d see him in the clinic, yes. But helping him with his patients in a roomful of people wasn’t nearly as intimate as quiet moments spent poring over the files together.

He was, in many ways, Jake’s opposite, in looks and personality. Richard was blond where Jake had been dark. Both men had commanding presences, but while Jake was boisterous and larger-than-life, Richard had a quiet dignity about him that commanded the respect and attention of everyone near him.

But like Jake, Richard could make her head swim with a simple look. Somehow, reacting to another man the way she’d reacted to her husband felt…wrong.

Yet here she was, lunching with him in a public place, where anyone could see them. The gossips were still atwitter about how much time they’d been spending together, closeted alone in the library for hours on end. How that information had gotten out, Brynne didn’t know, but she could guess. The servants’ unofficial underground network was amazing. A person couldn’t do anything in Boston without the whole of the service industry passing it along. They knew everything. The notion that one of her staff was spreading details about her private life, however, was disturbing indeed.

There was also Coraline to consider. She was growing very attached to Richard. And he to her, if appearances could be believed. He was so sweet with her daughter that it made Brynne’s heart ache to watch them together. Both with happiness and with misery. Jake should be the one playing with Coraline, reading her stories, making her giggle with his silly antics. But Jake would never be able to do any of those things.

What if Brynne was reading too much into Richard’s intentions? What if he was merely being polite? Or what if Brynne couldn’t get over her issues regarding Jake enough to let Richard into her life, her heart? Coraline would be crushed. Brynne didn’t think her heart would ever recover from losing him either. Because, try as she might to deny it, she was falling in love with Doctor Richard Oliver. And she wasn’t sure how to deal with that.

“What are you thinking about?” Richard asked, his eyes creased with concern.

“It’s nothing.”

He reached out and smoothed a finger over the wrinkle that had formed in her forehead. “It must be something.”

Brynne sighed. No time like the present. “It’s only…I’ve enjoyed our time together. Now that we’ve nearly finished…”

She couldn’t go on. She’d never felt so off-balance, so insecure, in her life. She despised the feeling but couldn’t seem to do anything about it.

Richard took her hand. Brynne glanced at where his hand encompassed hers, her heart skipping a beat or two as she waited for him to say something.

“I’ve been meaning to say something to you for weeks, but could never seem to get up the nerve.”

Brynne raised an eyebrow. Richard might be kind to a fault and sweet and gentle when it came to children, but make no mistake about it—he was a man who knew what he wanted and did not take no for an answer. Brynne had once seen him reduce a vendor who had tried to swindle him to near tears. Richard Oliver was not a man who ever lost his nerve.

“I’ve enjoyed our time together as well. I would like to continue to see you, outside the clinic, after we are done with our task.”

He leaned closer to her, so close his breath mingled with her own. His thumb rubbed lazy circles on Brynne’s palm, shooting tingles up her arm and straight into her heart. “Would you like to keep seeing me, Brynne?”

Brynne’s breath caught in her throat and her mind emptied of all thoughts but one. Yes!

Before she could answer, they were interrupted by a voice Brynne was beginning to think she despised above all others.

“Why Dr. Oliver, how delightful to see you here.” Mrs. Morey’s simpering voice wormed its way under Brynne’s skin, like an itch she couldn’t quite reach.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Morey.”

“You remember my daughter, of course.” She thrust her daughter forward like she was tossing a piece of meat to a starving dog.

Richard smiled, but Brynne knew him well enough now to know it wasn’t genuine. It was polite, but didn’t reach his eyes. “Yes, of course. It is nice to see you again, Miss Morey.”

The poor girl turned beet red, her mouth gaping open like she knew she was supposed to speak but couldn’t quite figure out how. Her mother frowned at her and turned her attention back to Richard.

“We stopped by the clinic earlier to offer our assistance, but your housekeeper said you were out. How fortuitous that we ran into you here.”

Fortuitous my giddy aunt. Brynne had no doubt the woman had stalked any establishment within a two mile radius of the clinic hoping to arrange just such a chance meeting. And she hadn’t missed the fact that the woman hadn’t so much as looked in her direction the entire time she’d been standing there. For someone so well-bred, it was an incredibly bold stroke of impoliteness.

“That’s very generous of you, Mrs. Morey. However, there really wouldn’t be much for you to do at the clinic I’m afraid. I am fully staffed and Mrs. Forrester has been such an immense help that I don’t think I’d have a single task for you. You are acquainted with Mrs. Forrester, aren’t you?”

Brynne pressed her lips together to keep from smiling. Poor Mrs. Morey now had to acknowledge her. Brynne waited to see if the woman would explode.

Mrs. Morey turned a frosty smirk to Brynne. “Yes, of course. Good afternoon, Mrs. Forrester. I hope you are well.”

“Very well, thank you,” Brynne answered.

“Well, Mrs. Morey, Miss Morey, if you’ll excuse us, we really should be going.” Richard stood and offered Brynne his arm. She tucked her hand through the crook of his elbow, said goodbye as politely as she could muster, and walked away with Richard, Mrs. Morey’s glare burning a hole through her back as they left.

At least one thing had been solved. With the town’s biggest gossip witnessing their cozy tete-a-tete and obvious closeness, trying to decide whether or not to see Richard had become something of a moot point. The gossips would have them engaged by the end of the day. It relieved a little of the stress Brynne had been feeling. Everyone would already believe they were courting. It would be nice to actually be guilty of what the gossips accused her of, for once. And frankly, it was exhausting fighting herself over it. She wanted to see him, right or wrong.

“You never answered my question,” Richard said, startling her with how closely he was attuned to her.

Brynne looked up at him and smiled, feeling suddenly shy. “Yes. I would like to keep seeing you.”

“Then see me you shall, Mrs. Forrester. Brynne.”

“I look forward to it. Richard.”

And she meant it. The guilt was still there. She still felt like she was betraying Jake somehow. But the desire to see Richard was stronger.

For now, she was excited to see where the relationship might go.

Chapter Nine

Brynne put down her pen and stood to stretch her back. They’d been working for two hours without a break and her body was beginning to cramp from hunching over her desk. Richard had found one last file that had needed transcribing, but they’d taken their time about it. Some mornings, they had worked. Others, they’d spent walking through the park, talking and getting to know each other. They often took Coraline with them, letting her scamper on ahead as they conversed. But Richard always found a moment or two to be alone with Brynne.

It was so different from how things had gone with Jake. Jake had been impetuous, spontaneous. He’d ridden into town and swept her off her feet before she’d had two seconds to think about it. With Richard, it was no less exciting, but he took his time. Then again, had he pushed too hard, Brynne would probably have turned tail and run. She was thankful that Richard allowed her the time she needed to get used to the idea of having a new man in her life.

Brynne got a few satisfying pops out of her spine and straightened to find Richard staring at her. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She’d grown so used to being in his company that she was starting to forget to behave properly around him. She opened her mouth to apologize and snapped it shut again, wondering what in the world she’d apologize for. Saying she was sorry for inappropriately thrusting her breasts into the air as she tried to get comfortable would most likely make matters worse.

Richard stood and grinned, then bent nearly backwards and cracked his own back. “Ah, that does feel better, doesn’t it?”

Brynne felt instantly better. How did he always manage to do that? No matter how awkward or uncomfortable she might be feeling, he always knew the exact right thing to do or say to put her at ease. Richard came around to her side of the desk and half-sat on it. He took her hand and drew her nearer, so close she nearly stood between his legs as he rested against the desk.

“I’ve enjoyed spending these mornings with you,” he said. He softly caressed her hand. Each stroke of his finger along her skin shot straight to her core, sending her normally agile mental facilities into hazy chaos.

The best response she could muster was, “Thank you.”

Richard chuckled. “I hope you have enjoyed them as well?”

Buck up, woman! Brynne gathered her wits about her. She knew she should probably play coy, or feign disinterest. But frankly, she had never been one to play games. It was tiresome and dishonest. She’d always been one to speak her mind and she saw no reason to stop now, even if admitting how she was starting to feel for the doctor terrified her to the very marrow of her bones.

“I have enjoyed spending time with you. Very much.” There. She’d said it and hadn’t perished on the spot. Bully for her.

Richard smiled and Brynne’s heart nearly jumped from her chest. “Perhaps now that we really have finished these infernal documents, we could celebrate. The annual gala for the Boston Museum is in a few weeks. I’d be honored if you’d allow me to escort you.” He pulled her a fraction closer with each word, until Brynne had to crane her neck to look up at him.

Accompanying him to a society ball? A few carriage rides and walks around the park was one thing, but showing up on his arm at such a well-attended society function was tantamount to announcing their intentions before the world. What exactly were his intentions? With those blue eyes staring into hers, Brynne wasn’t sure she cared.

“That sounds lovely,” Brynne said, her pulse pounding so fiercely her head spun. She tilted her face towards his as he leaned down.

“You are lovely, Brynne,” he said, cupping his hand around the back of her neck. “So very lovely.”

Brynne hesitated for a moment. It had been such a long time since she’d been kissed. The familiar stab of guilt at the memory of the last time she’d been kissed tried to break through the happy haze enveloping her, but this time, Brynne pushed it aside. She would always love Jake, would always miss him. But he’d been gone now for nearly four years. Maybe it was time to at last let him go.

She allowed Richard to wrap her fully in his arms and rose on her toes to meet his lips.

When the library door burst open, Brynne nearly jumped out of her skin. She jerked away from Richard, her face flaming so hotly she was sure it would catch fire.

“Brynne, the most terrible thing has happened! Oh, it’s altogether too horrid, it’s—”

Lucy stopped mid-sentence and looked back and forth between Brynne and Richard. Even through the tears streaming down Lucy’s face Brynne could see the surprise, and approving calculation, in her sister’s eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Lucy said, wiping at her face. “I didn’t mean to interrupt…”

“No, no, you didn’t interrupt anything,” Brynne said, her gaze darting to Richard who had made himself busy gathering up his documents.

“Not at all,” he agreed. “In fact, we’ve finished up for the morning. I really should be on my way.”

Brynne suppressed a rush of disappointment. Lucy was obviously very upset and now that she wasn’t wrapped up in the heat of the moment, Brynne was a little embarrassed at how she’d nearly thrown herself at Richard.

He finished gathering up his things and started toward the door. He gave Lucy a polite nod and then looked at Brynne expectantly.

“I’ll see you out,” she said, warmth spreading through her at the loving gaze he bestowed upon her. “I’ll be right back,” she told Lucy.

“Take your time,” Lucy said, managing to aim a teasing smirk at Brynne even through her tears.

Brynne shot Lucy a warning glance and accompanied Richard to the front door.

“I am sorry we were interrupted,” he said, aiming that heart-melting smile at her again.

Brynne blushed but looked him in the eye. “As am I.”

“I do hope your sister is all right.”

“I’m sure she is. She’s at that age where she’ll pitch a fit over everything.”

Richard chuckled. Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips across her cheek. Brynne sucked in her breath. She desperately wanted to pull him closer, feel the lips that caressed her cheek press against her own. Instead, she reached out with a trembling hand and opened the door.

“I will see you tomorrow, Brynne.”

“Goodbye, Richard.”

Brynne watched him until he had climbed into his carriage. Then she closed the door, leaning her forehead against the cool wood. Blazes, what was she getting herself into?

When she’d composed herself enough to go and deal with whatever crisis Lucy was experiencing, she turned and found Mrs. Krause standing in the hall, her sour face puckered with disapproval.

Criminy! How long had the old bat been standing there? From the look on her face, long enough to see Richard kiss her, though a peck on the cheek hardly counted in her book. Mrs. Krause’s demeanor made it obvious she wouldn’t agree.

Well, it was none of the housekeeper’s business what Brynne did or who she did it with, so she could keep her sourpuss attitude to herself. Nothing was going to ruin the tentative happiness beginning to course through her.

“Mrs. Krause, could we have some tea and perhaps a few of those cookies Lucy likes so much sent to the library? Lucy appears to need a little cheering up.”

The housekeeper gave Brynne a sharp nod and spun on her heels. She sighed. If she had any other options, she’d send the woman packing. But finding good help was hard, and for her, nearly impossible. Mrs. Krause would have to do.

For now, Brynne had bigger worries. Lucy was usually level-headed, not prone to hysterics. For her to be this upset, something truly terrible must have happened.

By the time she re-entered the library, Lucy was pacing the rug, her tears evaporated into fury.

“What’s happened?”

“That, that arrogant, spineless, lying boot-licker told everyone that I…that I let him…that we…ahhh!” Lucy spun on her heels and started pacing again, her face flushed with frustrated fury.

“Lucy. Take a deep breath and calm down. You aren’t making any sense and I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Lucy flounced onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands. Brynne gave her a moment to compose herself.

Once she calmed, she tried asking again. “Now. Let’s try this again. Who exactly is an arrogant, spineless…”

“Lying bastard! Steven Bartlett, that’s who. I tell you, if we were back home, I’d have him hog-tied and strung up in the barn while I introduced him to the gelding shears.”

“Lucy!” Brynne tried to keep her voice stern though it was all she could do not to laugh. Lucy was normally a fairly sweet soul. But she was not someone you wanted to rile up. Brynne almost felt sorry for Mr. Bartlett, despite what he’d done to upset her sister.

“You don’t know what he did!”

“And I never will if you don’t calm down and tell me.”

Lucy flounced back onto the sofa, her lips trembling as her rage abated somewhat. “I was at Sarah Messer’s. I was so excited. I’d finally been invited to one of her super social afternoon teas.” Lucy rolled her eyes. “I was so stupid. I think they only invited me to have someone to poke fun at.”

Mixed in with Lucy’s anger was a sort of hurt bewilderment that made Brynne’s blood boil. She looked like an eager puppy who’d been kicked for being too friendly and couldn’t figure out what she’d done wrong. Brynne held her tongue through sheer power of will. She didn’t want to interrupt Lucy or she might never get the whole story.

“There was a whole group in attendance. Sarah, and her usual flock of followers, and several of the young men. They wanted to play a silly game. You know the one, where you hang a sheet and put a candle behind it and then disguise yourself as you walk behind it and see if the others can guess who you are. I can’t help that I’m better at it than the other girls. I suspect that they play dumb to protect the boys’ fragile opinions of themselves.

“I excused myself to get a bit of air. I only stepped out into the garden for a moment. But Steven followed me. I tried to go back inside but…he…he tried to kiss me.”

Brynne’s anger went from boiling to raging. “He did what?”

“I clouted him. It made him angry. He said I had no business putting on airs, that everyone knew what kind of women we both were, growing up wild like we did, and living with a heathen like we do.” Lucy stuck her chin in the air with a satisfied grin. “So I struck him again.”

“Lucy,” Brynne said, forcing a note of disapproval into her voice. Truth be told, she’d rather cheer. Lying bastard indeed. Brynne would like to give the miserable little snorter a good slogging herself.

“He had it coming.”

Brynne agreed but didn’t voice it. “Then what happened?”

Lucy took a deep breath, her anger dissolving into hurt again. “He went back to the group. I decided I wanted to go home, so I found a maid to get my things and waited in the foyer. But before I could leave, Sarah came out. She was furious, said I was trying to steal Steven from her but that my…my whorish ways wouldn’t work. He’d told everyone that I’d let him…let him…take liberties with me while we were gone. And they believed him. I’m ruined! No one will ever believe I didn’t do it. I won’t be accepted anywhere, no one will ever want to court me, let alone marry me. It didn’t matter what I said, they believed him. And he just stood there, leaning against the doorframe, looking smug.”

Lucy dissolved into tears and Brynne wrapped her in her arms, her heart breaking for her sister. She was right. That vicious bastard had ruined her, even if everything he said was a lie. And Brynne had no idea how to help her. No one would listen to her either.

“Mrs. Forrester, I’m sorry to interrupt…”

Brynne looked up to see Taggart standing in the doorway holding a tray with the tea she had ordered. Her mouth dropped open. Sweet heaven, he’d probably heard everything. By now the rumor had surely spread through half the households in Boston, so it hardly mattered.

She gathered her wits and nodded. “Please set it on the table.”

He did as she directed, but instead of leaving once he’d finished, he hovered for a moment.

“Was there something else, Taggart?”

He hesitated for a second, then squared his shoulders. “Yes, ma’am. I believe I can help with the…situation Miss Lucy has found herself in.”

Lucy’s eyes shot to Taggart. “How?”

“I’d…rather not go into too much detail, miss. Let’s just say that I can help expose the gentleman’s true nature.”

Brynne and Lucy exchanged a glance and before Brynne could say a word, Lucy stood. “I’d appreciate any help you could provide, Mr. Taggart.”

His lips pulled into a slight smile and he nodded his head. “It will be my pleasure, Miss.”

He turned to leave, but Lucy stopped him. “Mr. Taggart, I want you to know that I didn’t do what he’s accusing me of. I’m not the kind of girl he says I am.”

“I know that, Miss Lucy,” he said, his gaze lingering on her before he bowed and excused himself.

Brynne frowned. It felt like there was more going on between her butler and her sister, but she’d never seen anything inappropriate between them. She might have to keep a closer eye on the two.

…

Two days later, Taggart brought Brynne the morning paper, already folded open to the society pages. There was a story about the son of a prominent lawyer in town who had been caught in an extremely compromising position. He’d been found with two prostitutes in the back room of a gambling hall, so insensible with opium that he’d had to be dragged out. His name wasn’t included in the article, nor was there any information about what had happened afterward.

“Steven Bartlett?”

“Yes, ma’am. It seems that his father received an anonymous note informing him of his son’s preferred pastimes along with the address of where he was most likely to be found. It just so happened that a distinguished member of the press was nearby when this all occurred and was a witness to everything.”

Brynne’s lips twitched. Taggart hadn’t been exaggerating about his ability to help.

“And what will happen to poor Mr. Bartlett now?”

“His father has decided a trip abroad might do the boy some good. His passage has already been arranged.”

“You work quickly, Taggart. Nicely done.”

“Mr. Bartlett made it easy, ma’am. I simply saw to it that his proclivities were exposed. I promise you that no one even remembers his lies against Miss Lucy now.”

“We owe you our thanks, Mr. Taggart.”

“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Forrester.”

Richard came in on the heels of Mrs. Krause and sat beside Brynne. “Have you heard about this business with the Bartlett boy? Quite shocking.”

Brynne’s gaze shot to Taggart, who echoed her smile as he nodded to her and left the room.

Chapter Ten

The day had been relatively quiet. Only a few patients with minor ailments had come into the clinic and Brynne had spent most of the morning in Richard’s office, transcribing some notes he’d made about a particularly interesting case he’d worked on. She’d become something of an unofficial secretary, a task that suited her nicely. Especially as it meant she was able to spend more time with Richard.

She’d been trying not to examine her growing feelings for him too closely. Dwelling on them brought the inevitable guilt and frankly, she was tired of feeling guilty. Jake had been dead for four years. It wasn’t a betrayal of him to have feelings for another man. She only wished it didn’t feel like one.

Richard filled the doorway and Brynne stopped in mid-motion, her whole body frozen as he stared at her. A slow smile stretched across his lips and Brynne’s heart flipped. Richard glanced into the hallway over his shoulder and closed the door halfway behind him before he entered the room.

“Hello, Brynne.”

“Hello, Richard.”

She stood as he came around the desk and took the papers from her, keeping her hand in his and setting them aside without glancing at them.

How did the simple touch of his hand render her so senseless? It was both irritating and exhilarating all at once.

“How have you been getting on back here? I trust it hasn’t been too wearisome.”

She looked into his eyes, a smile of her own appearing to match his. “Not at all.”

“Good. I’d hate to chase you away through sheer boredom.”

Oh no. She could never be bored. Not with his fingers caressing her palm, reaching up to skim across the pulse jumping under the tender skin of her wrist.

He pulled her closer. Brynne’s gaze flickered to the door for an instant. What if someone were to see?

Richard’s other hand wrapped about her waist and she suddenly didn’t care if the whole world could see them.

A cursory knock at the door heralded a very flustered Mrs. Birch. Brynne jumped and tried to pull her hand from Richard’s but he kept a firm hold of it. He didn’t seem startled at all by the woman’s sudden appearance. He merely looked at her politely, waiting for whatever emergency had brought her running.

“Dr. Oliver, I’m sorry to disturb you, but a woman has come into the clinic with her two children. They are all ill. I believe it’s scarlet fever, sir.”

Richard was on the move before Brynne could take another breath. “Shut up the clinic. Has anyone had any contact with them?”

“No, sir. As soon as I saw them I put them in the small sitting room off the hall.”

“Good woman. Anyone who has not had the disease must leave immediately. Tell them to burn their clothing when they get home, to be safe.”

Mrs. Birch ran off to carry out Richard’s orders. He turned to Brynne. “I want you to take Coraline and your sister and get out of town, immediately.”

“But I can help, I’ve—”

“No!”

Brynne flinched, startled at his shout. Richard immediately softened and took both of her hands, drawing her close to him. “I wouldn’t be able to live if anything happened to you or Coraline. Go to the country, get away from town until the sickness has passed. If this family has it, then there are others out there and there will soon be countless more. Get to safety.”

He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger against her skin. “Stay safe and well.”

Richard kissed her cheek again, gave her hand a squeeze, and hurried out.

Brynne’s heart clenched as she watched him go. What if she never saw him again? He didn’t say whether he’d had the dreaded illness or not. And it was exactly like him to go throwing his life away to save others.

Brynne hurried out of the clinic and hailed a hack. Richard obviously didn’t know her very well if he believed she’d sit back and do nothing, and she was well aware that was entirely her fault. She’d been afraid to let him get too close.

Well, Dr. Oliver was about to find out what kind of woman she was.

…

“But Momma, I don’t want to go away.”

Brynne choked back the lump in her throat as she pulled a coat around her daughter’s small shoulders. “I know, chickabiddy. I don’t want you to go away either. I’ll miss you terribly.” She pulled her in for a hug and then tilted the little girl’s face up so she could look into her eyes. “But I want you to be safe and well even more. There is an illness in town, and I don’t want you to catch it.”

“You come too, Momma?”

For a moment, Brynne hesitated. The thought of being separated from her daughter was nearly a physical pain. But she couldn’t leave Richard alone to fight the battle ahead of him, not knowing what might come of him in the process. At least if Coraline was out of the city, Brynne could rest assured that she was safe. She could not say the same for Richard. And she knew she could be of use. She had to do what she could to help.

“I can’t, my darling. I will be fine,” she promised her daughter. “I’ve already had scarlet fever, and you can only get it once. But there will be a lot of people who haven’t had it before, and Momma must stay to help them.”

“With Doc Liver?”

Brynne choked out a laugh at her daughter’s mispronunciation of Richard’s name. It had always been sweetly amusing and with the possibility of not seeing her little girl for many weeks looming, was even more so. “Yes, my love. With Doc Liver.”

Coraline wrinkled her nose as she contemplated what her mother had told her. The lump in Brynne’s throat grew more difficult to ignore. “I stay,” she announced.

“Now young lady, your mother has told you, you must go. We’ll have no more fussing from you,” Mrs. Krause said. She tried to get a firm grip on Coraline, but Coraline was keen to that game. As soon as Mrs. Krause got a hold of her, Coraline went limp. The sudden shift from struggling prisoner to dead weight loosened Mrs. Krause’s hold and Coraline slipped right through her fingers.

“Coraline,” Brynne scolded. “That is enough.”

Coraline jumped up and threw her arms about Brynne’s neck. Brynne scooped her up, holding her close. “Come on now. Brisk up. I know you are sad, but you will have a marvelous time with Aunt Lucy and your grandparents. You’ll get to see the horse farm where your daddy and Uncle Leo grew up. Won’t that be fun?”

“Horses?”

“Yes, there will be many horses there. Perhaps Aunt Lucy can teach you to ride. Would you like that?”

“Ride horses!” Coraline was suddenly squirming to get down, and Brynne relinquished her to Mrs. Krause.

Lucy came down the stairs, a large bag under each arm, followed closely by Taggart. Old Mr. Cotton waited by the carriage door. He’d gallantly offered to accompany Lucy and Coraline on their journey. While there was no real need for him to go, as Cora and Edward would also be there, it was no real hardship to send him along. The more people out of harm’s way, the better.

The Forrester’s carriage pulled up and their footman ran up the steps to help gather the bags. He stopped for a moment to give Brynne a message. “Mr. Forrester said that they’d gone on ahead to arrange passage on the train, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Jimmy.”

Brynne gave her daughter one more firm hug, burying her face in Coraline’s curls. Perhaps she was making the wrong choice. Maybe she should go with her.

Lucy came up and held her arms out for Coraline, who gave her mother a kiss on the cheek and went to her aunt.

Brynne blinked, refusing to let the tears that threatened to fill her eyes show.

Lucy leaned in for a one-armed hug. “Ah, don’t take on so. I’ll take good care of her,” she promised. “You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“She’s my baby. I’m always going to worry about her.”

Lucy laughed. “Well, try not to worry too much then. She’s going to have fun. It’ll be like life on the ranch. Sort of.”

Brynne did smile at that. Mrs. Forrester’s family owned a large horse ranch in Maryland and they were taking Coraline and Lucy there. They’d promised Coraline she could ride the horses and take a trip to the beach. Brynne knew that Coraline was in good hands and would have so much fun she probably wouldn’t miss home at all. But Brynne would miss her every second she was gone.

Taggart finished checking the baggage on the back of the carriage and then held out his hand and helped Coraline into the carriage as if she were a full grown lady. Her cheeks dimpled in delight. Taggart gave her a bow as she settled into the carriage and then turned to help Lucy inside. He took her hand, but instead of climbing inside the carriage right away, Lucy stood for a moment speaking quietly to him.

Brynne frowned and was about to come down the front steps when Lucy turned to wave before climbing inside to settle in with Coraline. Mr. Cotton and Mrs. Krause climbed in next and then they were off.

Brynne’s heart broke a little as she watched the carriage carry her daughter farther from her. Then she squared her shoulders and went back into the house. There was work to do.

Chapter Eleven

When Richard saw Brynne walk into the clinic, her arms full of bags and parcels, his pulse quickened as it always did when he saw her. But anger and concern were quick on its heels. What was the aggravating woman doing? He had to get her out of there quickly.

He stormed toward her, but she simply thrust her bundles into his arms, gathered her skirts, and mounted the stairs. Dumbfounded, he followed along behind, holding his tongue until they were in his private quarters. Brynne went into the first room in the hallway, a guest room that he’d had rare occasion to use.

Richard dumped the parcels on the bed and rounded on her. “Are you mad, woman? What are you doing here? I told you to get Coraline to safety.”

“Coraline is on her way to the Forresters’ relatives in Maryland.” Her voice broke a little as she spoke and she cleared her throat before she continued.

“I’ve had scarlet fever. And you can’t take care of all the patients who will be coming in by yourself, so don’t argue with me. I’m staying and I’m helping.”

His worry lessened, but only marginally. He still didn’t want her anywhere near his clinic. “I don’t need you—”

“Sir.” Mrs. Birch stood in the doorway. “Three more have come in.”

Brynne nodded. “Quit your bellyachin’. You do need me.” She quickly dug through one of the parcels on her bed and extracted an apron. “Mrs. Birch,” she said as she put it on, “I’ve brought a few supplies that I had on hand. Some Epsom salts, ammonia, and all the barley we had in the house. If too many come, I feared you might not have supplies to feed them all and I know they won’t be able to stomach much more than barley water.”

Mrs. Birch nodded at her in approval and bustled past a flustered Richard to gather the supplies before turning to march downstairs.

Richard stood in the middle of the room, hands balled into fists by his side. Brynne looked at him with a mixture of what looked like amusement and pity. She came to him and took his hands in hers.

“My dear Richard. If you are going to court me properly there are a couple things you might want to know about me.”

She suddenly had his interest. “And what would that be?” he asked, pulling her a little closer.

“First of all, I’m not one to sit idly by when there is work to be done. Secondly, and perhaps more importantly, I can be as stubborn as a mule with a knot in his tail when I want to be. It’s usually best to let me have my way. Saves time.” She smiled up at him and he forgot what his arguments against her staying were.

“Does that mean I have your permission to formally declare my intentions, Mrs. Forrester?” He pulled her even closer, close enough he could wrap his arms about her waist.

She hesitated for a moment before her arms tentatively slid their way up his. “Against my better judgment, yes.”

He leaned down, slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to, and pressed his lips against hers. They were as soft and full as he’d known they would be, and so much sweeter. She made a soft noise, something between a whimper and a sigh, and it was all he could do not to take her where she stood.

Brynne pulled away and he felt her loss immediately. She looked up at him, a soft blush staining her cheeks. But the look in her eyes was far from embarrassed. It promised much more than the small taste he’d had.

“We should go see to your patients, Richard.”

He loved the sound of his name on her lips. He wanted to hear her moaning it as he—

“Richard?”

He shook his head. Heaven help him, the woman would be his undoing.

He took her arm and escorted her downstairs.

…

They worked non-stop, caring for the people who came into the clinic ‘round the clock, catching a few moments of sleep here and there. By the end of the week, they were both on edge and ready to collapse. Still, Brynne was surprised when she came upon Richard having it out with a man she’d seen around the clinic once or twice before. The temptation to eavesdrop was great, but she had an armload of linens she needed to deliver to Mrs. Birch.

Brynne hurriedly took them to the infirmary and then went back to Richard’s office. The man had gone and Richard sat behind his desk, his head in his hands.

“Richard! What has happened?” She’d never seen him look so dejected, though his face was flushed with anger. A ball of anxiety formed in the pit of her stomach.

“Close the door.”

Brynne hurried to comply and then sat down. “What is it?”

Richard took a deep breath. “That shipment of supplies I was waiting for…the nitre, acetate of ammonia…nitrate of silver…nearly all my stores are depleted.”

The ball of anxiety turned to ice. They needed those supplies. Their patients needed them. Brynne kept quiet, not wanting to voice what she was afraid he’d say.

“It’s been stolen. The entire lot. Someone intercepted the shipment before it could reach my warehouse and took every last parcel.”

“Oh, Richard.” Brynne let the horror of the situation sink in for a moment. Then she straightened her spine and stood up. No sense in wallowing. “What can we do about it?”

He looked at her standing before him, his brow creased in confusion, fatigue, irritation? Perhaps all three. But they had no time for any of them.

“Well?” Brynne prompted when he didn’t respond.

Richard rubbed his temples. “There isn’t much we can do.”

“Oh, bosh. There is always something that can be done. These items aren’t exactly rare. Surely there are other places you can get them.”

His frown deepened. “Under normal circumstances, yes. But with the sickness spreading, everyone is running short on supplies. There is a supplier I occasionally use when there is an item I need that I can’t obtain anywhere else…”

“I take it this supplier doesn’t hawk their wares at the local marketplace.”

Richard snorted. “Hardly. But they are very good in getting their hands on hard to get items.”

“Well then. Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that.”

“These times are certainly desperate.” Richard sighed and slammed his hands down on his desk, making Brynne jump. “But any other option would be preferable as it’s very likely that those damn bastards were the ones to steal my shipment in the first place.”

“What?” No wonder Richard looked mad enough to spit nails.

“I don’t seem to have much choice,” he continued. “I’ll set up a meeting for tomorrow. We need those supplies.”

“Well…” Brynne paused as the idea built in her head. “There might be another option.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I might know of another way to get our supplies back.”

“And what might that be?”

Brynne hesitated again. She had no doubt that she’d be able to pull it off. She’d successfully accomplished several similar jobs to great success. However, she wasn’t sure she wanted Richard to know about that part of her life. Ever. She wished Lucy were with her. It was always easier with a little help. Brynne debated telling Richard everything. She could use his assistance. But she couldn’t stand to lose him if the knowledge of her past turned out to be too much.

“I can’t tell you that. You’ll have to trust me.”

“Brynne…”

A shiver ran down her spine when he said her name. Why were names such powerful things? One little syllable on his lips and it sent a jolt straight to her heart. But she didn’t have time for such things right now.

“Look, Richard, you aren’t the only one who knows a few tricks to getting something that’s unobtainable. But…I can’t tell you more than that. Just tell me who these people are, where they can be found. Anything you know about them.”

“No. Brynne, I don’t want you mixed up in this. I’m touched that you want to help, but this isn’t something that you can handle.”

Actually, it was exactly the type of thing that Brynne handled best. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t a bit excited about the prospect of resurrecting a part of her life she’d thought done and buried. It looked like Blood Blade was going to ride again. As soon as she knew where to go.

If she could only get Richard to cooperate. Brynne studied his face. His jaw was clenched, his mouth set in stubborn lines. His eyes narrowed as if he were trying to figure out what she was up to while making sure he didn’t let any important information slip. Brynne might not be the most experienced when it came to men, but she knew enough to recognize that she wasn’t going to get anything out of him. But there were other ways.

“All right, Richard. I’ll leave it to you.” She gave him a small smile that grew wider when his eyes narrowed even further. He obviously didn’t believe she was going to give up that easily.

She went to him, stood on tiptoe, and kissed his cheek. “Be careful, please.”

Richard’s face softened as he looked down at her. He smoothed his thumb across her cheek. “I will be.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “I’ll feel much more secure knowing you are safely out of harm’s way.”

A twinge of guilt wormed its way through Brynne, but she tried to ignore it. She felt the same way. She was every bit as determined to keep him safe as he was to keep her safe. The only difference was, Brynne had years of experience with this sort of thing and Richard, while he might be able to hold his own against whomever he was dealing with, still had one weakness in this scenario. He was the good guy.

Brynne was much more familiar playing the other side of the coin. She’d have to keep her eyes and ears open so she could take care of the situation before Richard got himself mixed up in something he might not be able to control.

Brynne wrapped her arms about him as excitement flooded through her. She’d been playing the part of the well-behaved society marm for far too long.

Now it was time to have a little fun.

Chapter Twelve

Brynne knew Richard wouldn’t allow her to leave the clinic while the epidemic was raging, but her new boy Charlie had become a very handy messenger who had been taking letters and messages back and forth for those quarantined in the clinic. She sent a message out to Taggart the moment Richard went back to his patients. She prayed Taggart was both loyal and able enough to do what she needed.

She didn’t have to wait long. Within the hour, Charlie had returned with a parcel and a note from Taggart. Brynne tossed the boy a coin and sped up the stairs to her room. The note was simple and to the point:

I will be waiting as directed.

Brynne unwrapped the parcel. Lying inside were a pair of sturdy black trousers, a black men’s shirt, a black bandana, and her long leather duster. Brynne’s fingers skimmed over the soft leather of the coat. It had been a very long time since she’d worn this outfit. She hadn’t been sure why she’d brought it when she’d moved east, but now she was glad she had. She couldn’t do what she had planned in full skirts and corset.

Brynne stashed the clothing in her wardrobe and went back downstairs. She’d have to wait until the household had quieted for the night. There was always at least one nurse on duty, but most of those currently inhabiting the house would be tucked in their beds soon after dark.

She went impatiently about her duties for the rest of the evening, glancing at the clock in the foyer every so often. She caught Richard looking at her quizzically a few times and tried to rein in her eagerness, but it was difficult. What she was about to attempt was both foolhardy and dangerous…and completely exhilarating. And, if it worked, would both help Richard and the poor suffering souls in the clinic. She only had to wait a few more hours.

At last, it grew late and, one by one, everyone settled in for the night. Brynne went through the house, making sure all was quiet. She peeked into Richard’s office. He was slumped over his desk, quietly snoring with his head pillowed on his arms. Tenderness welled up in her. She wanted to wake him and make him go up to bed, tuck him in snug and tight where he could be comfortable and get some real rest. But if she woke him, there was no guarantee he’d go back to sleep.

She closed the office door and hurried upstairs, changing as quickly as she could. She threw a dress, sans corset, petticoats, and various under-trappings, over her trousers and shirt and carried the coat in her arms. If she were seen by anyone, she didn’t want it to look too strange. She secured her hair in a black hair net, wishing she could disguise it better. But the western style hat she’d worn in California would look too out of place in Boston.

Lastly, she strapped on her weapons. A gun at her hip, one in her boot, and her knife at the small of her back. It felt good to be armed again. In her old clothing, with the familiar weight of her weapons, she felt more like herself than she had in a very long time.

Sneaking quietly out the back kitchen door, Brynne hurried to the building undergoing construction down the lane, and went to the far eastern corner. The walls had been constructed, but a large hole gaped where the doorway would soon go. Brynne didn’t hear anything and it was too dark to see. She was about to risk going inside when she heard a soft whinney.

“Mrs. Forrester.”

Taggart had spoken softly, but Brynne still jumped. She pressed a hand to the pulse pounding in her throat and tried to calm down. If she was this jumpy before they’d even left, she’d never make it through the rest of the night.

Taggart led two horses out of the building, their hooves wrapped in cloth to help muffle the sound of their passing.

“Excellent, Taggart. Thank you.”

He simply nodded and waited for her to continue. She hadn’t told him much in her message. Hadn’t wanted to commit too much to paper in case someone else were to see it. She’d simply asked him to bring her the parcel from the top shelf in her armoire, and to “quietly” meet her with her horse across from the clinic and hoped he’d behave accordingly. And he had. Splendidly.

She quickly filled him in on the supply situation.

His eyebrow rose slightly. “And what do you intend to do, ma’am?”

“I intend to get our supplies back, Mr. Taggart. I’m sorry to involve you, but with Lucy gone, I need someone at my back. And since you were so helpful with Lucy’s situation, I hoped you might use those wonderful connections of yours to help me out again.”

“What exactly do you need from me, Mrs. Forrester?”

Taggart seemed amused, not horrified, and not surprised, which Brynne took as a good sign.

“I need to know if you have any idea where I might find the supplies that we need.”

“And if I do?”

“Then, Mr. Taggart, I’ll need you to watch my back while I retrieve them.”

Taggart pondered for a moment, long enough that Brynne had time to worry she’d trusted the wrong man. Finally, he spoke.

“It so happens that I do know where such supplies might be kept. However, they won’t be easy to get to. Would you perhaps like to arrange a deal instead? It would be far easier to purchase the items you need.”

“Yes, Mr. Taggart, I’m sure it would be. And Dr. Oliver is prepared to do exactly that. However, I’ve always been disinclined to purchase the same item twice. I have little doubt the items in question were the same ones stolen from Dr. Oliver. I intend to see they are returned to him.”

“How do you propose going about that, ma’am?”

“I…have a little experience in this area.”

Taggart’s eyebrows rose in disbelief and Brynne suppressed her irritation. Most men would find it difficult to believe a sweet, innocent, weak woman could be a bandit, and a successful one at that. Even Leo, her brother-in-law twice over, had had a hard time accepting it, even when he’d been faced with three gun-wielding women.

“Believe me or not, Mr. Taggart. All I really need from you is the location and your eyesight.”

Taggart’s smile looked terrifying in the dark, the tattooed lines on his chin making his mouth look distorted in the weak moonlight. “All right, Mrs. Forrester. I’ll show you where you can find your supplies.”

“Wonderful. One moment, please.”

Brynne quickly removed her dress, ignoring Taggart’s huff of surprise when she started unbuttoning her clothing. She rolled the dress into a ball and stowed it in a saddle bag, then shoved her arms through her coat sleeves. She hesitated about covering her face with the bandana. While she didn’t want anyone to recognize her, she might pass for a man in the darkness. But with her face covered, it would be too obvious she was up to something. She left it tied about her neck. She could always yank it into place if necessary.

Taggart couldn’t hide his surprise at her appearance.

Brynne sighed. “It’s a very long story, Mr. Taggart.”

“It’s one I would very much like to hear one day, Mrs. Forrester.”

Brynne laughed. “Help me get through this without getting caught and I’ll tell you every sordid detail.”

“That definitely makes what we are about to do worth it, ma’am.”

Brynne snorted and mounted her horse. They moved out quietly, sticking to the side streets and back alleys as much as possible. There were a few poor souls out, but with the recent outbreak of scarlet fever, most people were keeping to their homes. It was too late and too cold to be out and about anyway.

Still, Brynne reveled at the feel of her old clothes on her back. The bandana still held the familiar smell of the ranch. She could almost imagine she was once again riding the trails with her sisters, on their way to a raid or on one of their trips to bring supplies to the townspeople they had helped under the guise of the outlaw.

“Blood Blade rides again,” Brynne murmured.

Taggart led her to a rundown warehouse near the docks. Brynne glanced around. She couldn’t see anyone, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t anyone there. She let her hand stray to the gun strapped to her hip, feeling some comfort in its solid weight.

Taggart pulled his horse up alongside hers and leaned in close.

“The supplies you seek are inside that warehouse, on the east end,” he said, pointing toward a corner of the building. “There is a window near the back that is missing. You should be able to fit through it. It leads to a small basement area. I’m not sure where the medical supplies might be. You might need to go upstairs, but the basement is relatively secure and would be the best place to store their more valuable acquirements. I’ve heard they have medical supplies for sale, though I can’t be positive they’ll still be there.”

“Do I want to know how you know all this?”

A wry smile passed his lips. “Most of it is easy enough to discover if you keep your ears open. As for the rest, I followed them.”

“You what?”

“I met with them some weeks back. Afterwards, I followed them back here. The men I dealt with are certainly not the brains of the business. They had no idea they were being followed.”

“Do I want to know why you were meeting with them?”

“Probably not, ma’am. I assure you, it had nothing to do with you or yours and in no way endangered your family. It was a…small personal matter.”

Brynne took several deep breaths, worrying for a moment about what kind of man she’d invited into her home. His familiarity with thugs and black marketers was disturbing, to say the least. Then again, he appeared to be on her side. He might have dangerous connections, but as of yet, he’d used them to help her and her family.

And she was the last person who had the right to judge him either for his less-than-legal actions or for the company he kept. For now, at least, he’d earned her trust. “Thank you, Mr. Taggart.”

“Are you intending to take all of the supplies?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” she said, trying not to layer her words with too much sarcasm. The man was helping her after all, most likely going against his comrades. Which was something they would need to discuss if they got out of this in one piece. For now, she was grateful he was willing to double cross them to help her.

“How, exactly, are we going to do that, ma’am?”

“I hadn’t quite figured that part out yet, Mr. Taggart.”

Even in the darkness, she could see his eyebrows rise.

“I’ll think of something.”

“Very well, ma’am.” His voice was thick with amusement. “If I see anyone, I will whistle.”

Brynne nodded. Here went nothing. She dismounted and helped Taggart get the horses settled in an alleyway across from the warehouse.

“If I’m not back in fifteen minutes…” Brynne started.

“You aren’t going to ask me to leave you, are you ma’am?”

“Hell, no. If I’m not back in fifteen, you’d better get some reinforcements and come in and save my sorry skin.”

Taggart laughed. “Yes, ma’am.”

If things went bad, the last thing Brynne wanted was to drag him down with her. But she had a daughter to worry about now and she had no intention of leaving Coraline orphaned if there was any help for it. She felt bad about involving Taggart, but she had to admit, having him as backup did make her feel a great deal better about skulking around in that warehouse where who-knew-what awaited her.

The warehouse appeared empty and deserted and had been for quite some time if appearances could be believed. The perfect place for a load of contraband, she supposed. Brynne followed Taggart’s directions, keeping her back pressed along the side of the building as she made her way to the far eastern corner. Once there, she saw the window he said was missing. It was missing all right, but how he supposed she could squeeze through it, she had no idea. It was tiny.

There were other windows, but not many and most were several feet off the ground, higher than she could reach. There were no doors along this side of the building either. She debated scouting along the perimeter of the building for another entry point but didn’t have the time to waste.

She took a deep breath and slowly blew the air out. She crouched down and looked through the window. It looked into a small basement area. The floor of the inside was sunken several feet below the level of the window. The rest of the interior of the building was so dark she couldn’t make out anything for a moment. Stacks of boxes were scattered near the window and back walls. There was a faint light coming from somewhere, but it was far enough off that she should be safe enough entering through the window.

In fact, despite its ridiculous size, the window was the perfect point of entry. It was low to the ground and hidden enough that even if there were people inside, they wouldn’t see her.

Brynne took off her coat, instantly missing its warmth, and then removed her gun belt. There was no way she’d fit through the window with them on. She took comfort in the fact that she still had the other gun if she needed it. She folded her coat over a few times, wrapping the gun and belt inside it, and stashed it behind a broken crate. Hopefully, it would still be there when she got back.

She nudged out the few remaining shards of glass in the frame and shimmied through the window feet first. Brynne did fine until she got to her hips. She had a terrifying moment envisioning herself being wedged halfway inside. She bet a few years ago she wouldn’t have had a problem. Then again, she’d given birth since then, and hadn’t been particularly active since moving to Boston. She resolved to remedy that situation as she wiggled and squirmed her way through, dropping lightly to her feet inside the warehouse.

Brynne immediately crouched down and ducked behind a stack of crates. It didn’t take long for her eyes to become accustomed to the dark and she got her bearings as quickly as possible.

There were crates, piles of sacks, and miscellaneous bundles everywhere. How in the world was she going to find the supplies she needed?

Several boxes of supplies were piled up in the room, but not what she was looking for. Of course, the clinic could use everything the bastards had stashed, but without a wagon to haul it all back, there was no way she could get it all out of there. Especially not if she had to cram everything through the tiny window.

Brynne hunkered down and thought for a moment. A sound up the stairs where the light originated drew her attention and she crept closer. Two men’s voices drifted to her and Brynne pressed back against the wall, her heart pounding in her throat. Muffled voices muttered about something Brynne couldn’t quite catch. Something about a deal and…the doctor! They must be discussing Richard and the proposed drop for the next day.

Brynne scuttled up the stairs. The door was propped open with a box. She squeezed through the narrow opening, not wanting to open the door any farther than they already had it. She crept as close as she dared to the voices, darting behind whatever stacks of contraband that she could. She drew close to some sort of office. There were no windows looking in, but the door was ajar. Brynne tried to see inside, but ducked back behind her stack of crates when the door flew open.

Two men came out, one decidedly more scruffy than the other, his face unshaven, hair sticking out every which way. The other might have looked at home at a society function. His clothes were fashionable, if a bit threadbare. He must be the front man, the one who did the face-to-face dealings. He’d certainly make prospective buyers a little less nervous than the other man.

Sitting near the door was a small stack of boxes. The more gentlemanly man closed the door behind him. “Make sure those are ready to go tomorrow night. Only bring two of them. If the doc wants the rest of them, he’ll have to double his offer.”

Scruffy man laughed. “I’ll have everything ready.”

“Come on, hurry up. It’s late.” The gentleman waited impatiently by the door leading outside.

Brynne held her breath. As soon as the goons left, she could creep into the office, take the clinic’s supplies back, and none would be the wiser.

“I’m coming.” Scruffy said. He started toward the man by the door.

“Did you lock it?”

“Why bother? No one knows it’s here and we’ll be back soon anyway.”

“You know the rules. Lock it up.”

Scruffy huffed and pulled out a key. “Damn waste of time if you ask me.”

“Well, no one was asking you. Just do it and let’s get out of here.”

Damn. Not that something as trivial as a locked door would stop her. But it would have made her life a lot easier had they left it open.

Scruffy locked the door and left the warehouse with the other man. Brynne waited a few moments to be sure she was alone and then hurried to the office door. She only had a few minutes until Taggart came looking for her. Though how he’d get in, she didn’t know. He’d never fit through the window.

Brynne crouched down in front of the door and took out two of the pins that held her braid to her head. The lock was fairly standard, similar to dozens of others that she’d picked. It took far longer than it once would have. She was out of practice.

Forcing herself to breathe slowly and take her time, Brynne inserted one of the hair pins into the bottom of the lock and, with the other, carefully felt inside the tumbler, easing each spring-loaded pin up until they locked in place. Then she turned the tumbler with the bottom hair pin.

Click.

She grasped the handle and turned the knob, relief flowing through her as the door opened. She wasted no time, but hurried to the stack of boxes. She popped the lid on the top box to be sure that it did indeed hold the supplies she was after. Excited tension flooded her, making her hands shake as she pulled out a small bag she’d tucked in the waistband of her trousers. She went through three of the boxes, filling her bag with as much as it would hold. Then she closed up the boxes and got out of there, closing the door behind her. Hopefully, the scoundrels wouldn’t notice their contraband missing until after she was long gone.

She wasted no time in getting back to the window, not realizing until she reached it that she’d need a boost up. She dragged a large crate over and climbed up. She could barely reach the lip of the window sill, but she wouldn’t be able to climb through with the bag in her arms. Brynne hated to let the bag out of her hands, but she had little choice. She hefted it up through the window and then gripped the sill to pull herself through.

But it was easier said than done. If she had one more box under her she could reach. She let go of the sill and started to climb down from her crate when she heard a noise toward the front of the warehouse. Was that the outside door? They couldn’t be back already, could they? Brynne didn’t want to stick around to find out.

She jumped for the sill again, this time managing to get a good grip. She started to haul herself out, but there was nothing for her feet to push against, and her upper arm strength had grown pitifully inadequate. She tried again, this time certain she’d heard something. Desperation spurred her on and she kicked her feet, dragging herself up as far as she could. Her foot found purchase for a moment but slipped.

A large hand clamped on her arm and Brynne had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming. Taggart’s face loomed in the darkness and Brynne’s fear gave way to relief. He gripped both her arms and pulled her through the window, tugging hard when her hips wedged in the window frame. As soon as she was out, she scrambled to her feet.

“The supplies?”

“I have them,” he assured her. “We need to go. Quickly.”

Brynne didn’t argue. She grabbed her coat, quickly re-strapping her gun to her hip right as a crash and shouting erupted from inside the warehouse. She and Taggart sprinted back across the street and into the alley where he’d tied their horses. They mounted and rode off into the night.

Brynne’s body thrummed with excitement. She’d done it. She almost couldn’t believe that she’d pulled it off. She’d so missed this feeling, this exhilaration that made every cell pulse with vitality. How she’d ever believed she could sit quietly in a parlor and preside over tea parties for the rest of her life, she had no idea. This, this feeling shooting through her veins, this is what made life worth living.

The only feeling that came close to it was when she was with Richard. Only he made her feel this vibrant, this alive. And with him, she didn’t have to risk her life or do anything semi-illegal. A good argument for allowing their relationship to progress a bit further.

It was all she could do not to laugh out loud.

Taggart drew close to her. “Where are we taking it?”

Oh. Good question. Richard thought she was safely tucked into bed in her room at the clinic and she needed to get back there and get him the supplies as soon as possible. But she couldn’t exactly knock on the front door dressed as she was, and she didn’t have time to stop and change her clothes. Dawn was approaching. Richard might already be awake, readying himself to meet his contact.

There was no help for it though. She’d try to sneak in the back, but she needed to get the supplies to the clinic before anyone saw them and before Richard left to make the drop.

“To the clinic, Mr. Taggart.”

He didn’t question her but steered his horse in the direction of the clinic. The closer they got, the more apprehensive Brynne became. What if Richard was already awake? What was she going to tell him?

She prayed that she’d be able to sneak in, drop the supplies on his desk, and make it back up to her room before anyone was the wiser.

Chapter Thirteen

When they reached the clinic, they rode around to the back. Brynne dismounted and Taggart handed her the bag.

“Thank you for your help tonight, Mr. Taggart.”

“It was my pleasure, Mrs. Forrester.”

“I believe I owe you a few explanations.”

“You owe me nothing, ma’am.” He paused, a small smile peeking through his staid demeanor. “I am curious, though.”

Brynne laughed. “I’m sure you are. We’ll have to have a chat one of these days.”

“I look forward to that, ma’am. Now, you better get inside. I’ll take care of your horse for you.”

“Thank you.”

He nodded and rode off and Brynne hurried to the back door. As she’d hoped, it was open. The sky was beginning to lighten as the sun began its ascent and the cook would already be up and about. Brynne entered as quietly as she could. She didn’t see anyone, but she knew they were around somewhere. She hurried through the kitchen to the back stairs. Voices echoed to her from above and she backtracked, going out to the hallway toward Richard’s office.

The door was open, the fire from the night before still crackling in the hearth. She slipped inside and placed the bag on his desk.

The door clicked shut behind her and Brynne froze, her breath catching in her throat. She knew Richard was behind her, but she was suddenly afraid to turn around. She could feel him staring at her, his gaze burning into her.

The silence stretched out until she couldn’t take it anymore. She turned around and faced him.

Richard stood in the shadows, his face hardened into an expression she’d never seen on him before. It was more than angry, worse than when he’d heard that the supplies had been stolen.

He came toward her and she held her breath.

“Richard,” she said.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through?”

“I’m sorry, I really am. I didn’t mean to worry you, but I can explain.”

“You can explain? Explain why you are riding around town dressed like…like…” His eyes raked over her, from the trousers that hugged her legs, to the shirt that gaped open at her neck. His gaze lingered there. Brynne glanced down and gasped. Apparently her struggles to get out of the window had left their mark. Several tears and missing buttons left the fabric gaping open. Brynne gasped and pulled the shirt back together, but it didn’t help much. Richard advanced on her and Brynne backed up against the desk. She’d never seen him like this. Her gentle, quiet doctor had disappeared to be replaced by this seething, smoldering mountain of a man.

He grasped her arms. “Who did this to you?”

Brynne blinked, not sure she heard him correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

“Who did this to you?” Richard’s finger trailed along the tears in her shirt. His face gentled a little when he looked at her, though she could still see the fury seething beneath the surface. “You can explain to me later why you were out in the middle of the night dressed like some gunslinger. No matter how reckless your behavior, it is no excuse for the actions of whoever did this to you. I will not rest until they are brought to justice. And heaven help them if I find them before the authorities do.”

Brynne shivered at the raw fury in his voice. She almost hated to tell him the truth. But she couldn’t have him roaming the streets looking for someone on whom to avenge her honor. The threat of that fury turned against her when she told him the truth made a ball of ice settle in her stomach.

“Richard, no one attacked me.”

He frowned. “Then what, pray tell, happened?”

Brynne took a deep breath and dove in. Best to get it over with quickly.

“I was afraid for you. And angry that someone had stolen the supplies we needed so desperately and were going to make you pay all over again to get them back. So…I decided I would get them.”

Richard’s eyes widened in surprise, then narrowed dangerously. “You what?”

“I told you I could help. I got your supplies for you.”

“You met with those people? There was no need for you to do that. Why would you spend your money to buy something I had already made a deal for? What were you thinking?”

“Richard, I didn’t meet with them and I didn’t buy your supplies back.”

“But you said…”

“I said I got them back. I stole them.”

Richard looked so surprised Brynne could have slapped him and he probably wouldn’t have budged. He didn’t speak, so Brynne hurried on with her explanation.

“That’s why I’m dressed like this, and that is why my shirt is torn.”

That snapped him out of it. “You mean they—”

“No, I tore it climbing out of a window. My hips got stuck and it was a bit of a struggle…”

Richard’s gaze immediately went to her hips, his gaze growing more intense the longer he looked at her. The trousers didn’t hide anything. They hugged every curve. For a moment, Brynne was afraid perhaps she had too many curves, but judging by the sudden hitch in his breathing, whatever he saw was very much to his liking.

“Richard, didn’t you hear me? I got your supplies for you. Now you have what you need, and those bast…hooligans who took them won’t profit from their theft at all.”

His eyes widened at her near use of profanity but the truth of the situation finally sank in.

“You stole the supplies back from the thieves?”

Brynne nodded and waited for his reaction. He seemed to be hovering between surprise and disbelief. His sudden bark of laughter startled Brynne so much she jumped.

“I have been out of my mind with worry. I was about to send out a search party for you. I peeked in your room before getting ready to leave, to make sure you were all right. When I found you gone I…”

“You peeked in my room?” The thought of him coming into her room while she lay in bed sent a sudden heat shooting through her. He noticed her change in mood and looked down at her with hooded eyes.

“I’m sorry I worried you, Richard. I really am. I only meant to help.”

His brow creased in confusion. “How did you manage to—”

Brynne shook her head. “That is a very long story. One I’d rather not tell now. Can’t we simply celebrate our success and leave the rest for later?”

Richard didn’t seem sure what to say, but after a moment, his face relaxed. He chuckled. “You really are a mystery, Mrs. Forrester.”

“I don’t mean to be.”

He laughed again and gazed down at her, his smoldering expression from earlier melting into something more tender, though there was still a dangerous edge to his gaze. He tucked a stray strand of her hair behind her ear, his hand lingering on her cheek. She pressed her face into his palm. Her actions during the night had restored the confidence she had lost since Jake died. She felt stronger, more empowered, than she had in years. She was done playing the ostracized outsider.

Brynne turned her face and pressed her lips against his palm.

His breath hitched and he stepped closer, his arm slipping behind her back, pressing her closer to him. She tilted her head up, her arms trailing up his to rest on his shoulders. She rose on her toes as he leaned down.

Their lips met halfway. Brynne molded herself to him, not caring if what she was doing was improper or wrong. She’d wanted this, wanted him, for far too long.

He wrapped both arms around her, lifting her off the ground and onto the desk as he tried to meld their bodies together. He bent her backwards, pressing her back against the desk, his mouth ravishing hers with a passion that betrayed every ounce of pent up frustration, anger, and fear he must have felt over the last several hours.

Footsteps echoed down the hall. Richard and Brynne froze, each of them gasping for breath as their heart rates gradually slowed.

The footsteps continued past the door.

Richard helped Brynne off the desk but pulled her close again, cupping her face in his hands. He leaned down and gently kissed her lips.

“Brynne. Will you marry me?”

Brynne jerked back, struck dumb with surprise.

Richard looked at her. Her expression must have been as stunned as she felt because he laughed.

“Is it really such a surprise that I want you to be my wife?”

Honestly, yes, yes it was. Brynne knew it might be a possibility, of course. Men of his station didn’t court a respectable woman they weren’t seriously considering marrying. And they certainly didn’t engage in activities such as the one they’d recently been involved in unless they were willing to marry the girl in question. Brynne had managed, for the most part, to ignore that little detail.

And even if she had known he might someday be interested enough to propose, she certainly hadn’t expected it now. Not under these circumstances. Though…did that matter so much? He wanted to marry her. And she was fairly certain she wanted to marry him, no matter what she might try to tell herself in her darker moments. She definitely wanted to be with him in every way possible. She’d happily spend every waking moment with him.

But marriage wasn’t something she wanted to rush into. And it wasn’t something she wanted to decide right then. Too much had already happened that night. It was overwhelming. This was a decision she needed to make with a clear head.

“Brynne?”

He frowned, fine lines crinkling his eyes as he gazed at her. Brynne studied his face, her heart beating a little harder with every breath.

“Richard, I…can I…can I have a little time?”

“Of course. My apologies. I hadn’t meant to blurt it out like this.”

“Richard, you’ve done me the extreme honor of asking me to marry you. No apologies are necessary.”

He laughed and Brynne relaxed a little. He kissed her, a tender caress that made her head swim. “Take all the time you need.”

Brynne kissed him back, letting her lips linger on his.

He moaned and deepened the kiss. Brynne was grateful his arms were wrapped so tightly about her or she might have made a complete fool of herself and melted into a puddle at his feet.

“On second thought,” Richard said when they eventually came up for air, “try not to take too long.”

Brynne laughed and her whole being flooded with happiness for the first time in longer than she cared to remember.

“I won’t,” she promised. In fact, she was sure she wouldn’t need long at all.

Chapter Fourteen

Over the next couple weeks, Brynne didn’t have much time to consider Richard’s proposal. Brynne went about her duties, doing as much as she could to ease the suffering of the sick and the heartache left when their administrations failed. She did whatever she could to help Richard. Luckily, fewer and fewer cases were coming in and they had been extremely fortunate in being able to save many of those that came to them for help. The supplies Brynne had obtained went a long way toward easing the suffering of those under their care. Still, whenever they were able to carve out a few moments of time, Richard seemed to make it his mission to get Brynne to say yes.

Brynne paused, her hand still grasping the sheet of the bed she’d been stripping, her mind on Richard rather than the task at hand. She wanted to accept Richard’s proposal, so very much. Especially when he touched her. A brush of his hand, a stolen kiss in the hallway, even a heated look from across the room, could make Brynne’s insides turn to jelly.

But something still held her back. It was one thing to admit she had feelings for Richard, and even that was something she struggled with. But actually marrying another man was something she hadn’t ever considered she’d do. She’d no longer be Brynne Forrester. She’d be Brynne Oliver, a name that made her fairly quiver with delight. But…it felt like it would be severing the last connection she had with Jake. She’d be definitively stating to the world that she was no longer Jake’s wife, but belonged to another man. And she knew it was crazy, but that felt wrong somehow.

She couldn’t keep putting Richard off forever. But she did wish she could talk to someone about it. Her sisters were too far away, Cilla in California and Lucy in Maryland. But her in-laws had returned. Cora had sent a note to the clinic informing Brynne that while she and her husband had decided to come back to the city, Lucy and Coraline had remained in Maryland. They were having a good time and everyone felt it was best to keep Coraline far from Boston until the epidemic had passed.

Brynne ripped the linens from the bed she was changing with more vigor than necessary, earning her a curious stare from Mrs. Birch. Brynne turned her blushing face from the over-observant woman and marched out of the infirmary toward the kitchens to deposit the pile of dirty linens.

As she passed Richard’s office, his door opened and Richard pulled her inside. She dropped the linens in her arms, stifling her squeak of surprise as he spun her around, his lips meeting hers in a quick, urgent kiss.

“Richard,” she laughed, batting him away, “someone will see.”

He kissed her again. “If you’d agree to marry me, I could pull you into my office whenever I wanted and no one would care a whit.”

Her heart fluttered as it always did at the thought of being alone with him. She couldn’t keep him waiting. It was time to make a decision.

“I’m sorry I’ve kept you waiting so long. Thank you for being so patient with me.”

He kissed the top of her head. “I know I joke, but I do want you to be certain. I will wait as long as you need.”

Brynne bowed her head and rested it against his chest for a moment. She didn’t deserve him.

“I was hoping to go pay my mother-in-law a visit today. You said the worst of the epidemic was over. Now that the crisis has passed and they have returned…”

Richard paused for a moment. “Yes, it should be safe.” His tone implied he understood exactly why Brynne wished to see her mother-in-law. He was a saint for understanding.

“I will have an answer for you tomorrow.”

“Brynne, I meant it. You can take all the time you need. There is no rush. I want you to be sure.”

She reached up on her tip-toes and kissed him, a long, lingering kiss that left them both craving more. “I will have an answer for you tomorrow,” she said again.

“I look forward to the morning then.”

He winked at her and went back to work, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

…

Brynne sat across from Cora, plucking at the handkerchief in her hands.

“So, our good doctor has proposed,” Cora said. “I confess, I am not surprised.”

“You aren’t?” Brynne had been surprised. She still was. Why did such a wonderful man want to marry her?

Cora smiled and shook her head. “Of course not. It is as plain as the nose on your face how he feels about you. And how you feel about him.”

Brynne felt the heat rush to her cheeks and focused on the twisted handkerchief in her lap. “Is it that obvious?”

“Yes. It is. So…why are you hesitating? You love him, don’t you?”

Brynne took a deep breath. She’d never said it out loud. Saying it out loud would make it real. But it was time to decide once and for all. “Yes. I do love him.”

“Well then,” Cora said, reaching over to take her hand, “I think you’ve got your answer.”

A lump formed in Brynne’s throat. “Yes, but…”

“Ah, my dear. Jake would have wanted you to be happy. He wouldn’t want you to live your life alone. He’d want Coraline to have a father to protect her. And Dr. Oliver is a good man. I couldn’t have chosen a better step-father for my granddaughter if I had hand-picked him myself.”

Something in Cora’s tone made Brynne think her mother-in-law had done exactly that.

“Now,” she said, pulling Brynne to her feet. “Go put that wonderful young man out of his misery.”

Brynne laughed and hugged her mother-in-law. “Thank you, Cora. For everything.”

Cora patted Brynne’s cheek. “It is I who should thank you. You brought some happiness back into our lives. And being able to be near Coraline has been a blessing that we never dreamed would be possible when we lost Jake. Now, you deserve some happiness of your own.”

Brynne hugged Cora. When she left, it was with a light heart and clear conscience. A new phase of her life was about to begin, one she’d never dreamed would be possible for her again. She couldn’t wait to get back to Richard and start their lives together.

Brynne jumped down from the carriage and bounded up the steps of the clinic. Her whole body sang with happiness and for the first time, she didn’t feel guilty about it. There would always be some sadness when she thought of Jake. But Cora had been right. He wouldn’t have wanted her to live alone and miserable for the rest of her life. She wanted love, more children, a man who loved and respected her, who would be her partner, not merely her spouse. And she had no doubt that Richard was that man.

She was so excited to get inside and tell Richard that she accepted his proposal that she didn’t see who was coming out of the clinic until she’d almost run smack into her. Brynne stumbled back a step and mumbled an apology.

“Good morning, Mrs. Forrester,” Mrs. Morey said.

Brynne’s light, happy mood threatened to deflate, but she’d be damned if she’d let the odious woman ruin what was going to be one of the happiest days of her life. “Hello, Mrs. Morey. How are you this beautiful morning?”

“Oh, I am quite well, thank you.”

Brynne cocked her head. She had never heard the dreadful bitch sound so cheerful. “Well, that is good to hear. If you’ll excuse me…”

“It’s too bad I can’t say the same for you.”

“Pardon me?”

“I’ve just had a word with poor, dear Richard. It seems he’s been laboring under a few misconceptions concerning a certain woman in his life. Being a good, Christian woman, I couldn’t, in good conscience, allow him to be dragged down anymore by someone so unworthy of him.”

If Brynne had had any doubt as to who Mrs. Morey meant, it would have been erased by the delighted way the woman raked her gaze over Brynne. Like a snake eyeing a particularly delectable rabbit.

“I am sure I have no idea to what you are referring.”

“Oh, I’m certain you do.” Mrs. Morey smirked and brushed past Brynne. “Good day, Mrs. Forrester.”

A lump of dread formed in Brynne’s gut. What had the woman done? Surely, it couldn’t be all that bad. Yes, there were things in Brynne’s past that she needed to tell Richard, but nothing so horrendous that it would change his feelings for her, of that she had no doubt. And Brynne couldn’t fathom how Mrs. Morey could have discovered anything much about her in any case. They were nearly three thousand miles away from California, and Brynne didn’t think there was anyone left who would willingly spread tales about her.

She entered the clinic with a heavier tread than she had begun with, doubt sinking into her despite her best efforts to stay positive. Richard loved her. That was all that mattered. Surely he wouldn’t let a bit of idle, malicious gossip change the way he felt about her.

The moment she entered the foyer, Mrs. Birch looked up from her table. “Dr. Oliver would like to see you in his office, Mrs. Forrester.”

Brynne merely nodded and headed back to find Richard, her dread deepening more with every step. Why was she being summoned to his office like some misbehaving employee? She shook her head and tried to throw off her unease. Richard had asked her to marry him. He wanted her for his wife. Nothing a bitter old crone like Mrs. Morey could say would make him change his mind. For heaven’s sake, Brynne had only been gone a few hours. A fine wife she’d make, suspecting her future husband’s feelings were so fickle that they could be changed in a moment.

Brynne squared her shoulders and marched in to meet her soon-to-be fiancé, her head held high. She pictured Richard’s happiness when she finally accepted his proposal. Maybe she’d greet him with a kiss. That would surprise him.

She knocked on the office door and opened it without waiting for him to answer. She strode into the room with a smile.

“Richard, I’ve made my decision. I…”

Brynne stopped mid-sentence at the look on Richard’s face.

“Richard, what is it?”

For a moment, Brynne feared someone must have died. Richard’s face was set in hard lines, his brow furrowed in anger…or confusion. In his hand, he clutched an old newspaper trimming. Brynne couldn’t see the headline of the article, but she did recognize the illustration. It was a portrait of her brother-in-law, Leo, when he’d been elected sheriff of Bethany Ridge.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Richard asked, his voice low, quiet. Brynne would have preferred that he shouted.

“I was going to tell you everything.”

“When? After we’d married and it was too late for me to change my mind?”

Brynne gasped, all the breath rushing from her lungs as if Richard had slugged her in the stomach. She almost wished he had. It would have hurt less than the anger and accusation in his voice.

“I saw no reason to share everything that happened in my past until I knew how serious you were about me. And then, when you proposed, I was afraid…”

“Afraid of what?”

“Of this! Of you reacting like this. I didn’t want to jeopardize what we had together until I knew for sure that we had a future together. I would have told you everything before we married. In fact, that is what I came here to do. Until this moment, I didn’t truly believe that anything I was about to tell you would change how you felt about me.”

“My feelings haven’t changed, Brynne. But…”

He wouldn’t meet her gaze. Brynne’s heart sank. But she wouldn’t let that miserable woman destroy her happy future without at least trying to get him to understand.

“I love you, Richard.” She didn’t realize how badly she’d wanted to say those words aloud until they passed her lips. It felt so good to at long last tell him the truth. Tell him how she felt. “I love you. And of course, I’ll tell you everything. Anything you want to know. All you need to do is ask.”

Richard bowed his head. Not the reaction Brynne was hoping to get from her declaration. The lump of dread hardened into ice that chilled her through and through.

What if she’d left it too late? She should have told him. At least about Leo.

“I love you, too. At least, I love the Brynne I thought I knew.”

“What is that supposed to mean? I am the same person, Richard. Nothing about me has changed.”

Richard waved the newspaper at her. “Everything I believed I knew about you has changed. You consorted with bandits? Perhaps even rode with them? There were rumors that your own sister was the bandit Blood Blade. Going by your recent activities with the medical supplies, I’m inclined to believe that one, though I’ll admit, it’s nearly impossible to fathom. What did you do, ride the trails robbing stage coaches?”

Brynne could almost laugh at the incredulity on his face. She honestly had no idea how to respond to him. She couldn’t see how admitting that Cilla was Blood Blade, and that Brynne had indeed done her share of robbing and banditry, would ease him any. She shrugged, albeit a bit sheepishly.

Richard huffed and waved the clipping again. “And why didn’t you tell me that you had married again?”

Brynne sighed. What was it about men? Jake he could handle. Jake was dead. But another husband, one who was alive? That was intolerable.

“I would have told you, before we went any further. But I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Of course it matters! Brynne, you’ve been married twice now. Once to a husband who died under very mysterious and brutal circumstances, and then you almost immediately married your dead husband’s brother, while you were still carrying the child of your first husband. And then your second husband divorced you to marry your own sister. How can that not matter?”

Brynne flinched. It sounded so much worse when he spelled it all out like that. “That wasn’t exactly how it happened. I mean…it was but…”

“But what?”

Brynne sighed. She had no idea how to explain this where it wouldn’t sound horrible. “First of all, Leo didn’t divorce me, our marriage was annulled. Which means in the eyes of the law and God—”

“Yes, speaking of the law, was your first marriage even legal? There is supposedly no record of it. Do the Forresters know you bore their son a child out of wedlock? Do they know your marriage to their second son was annulled or do they even know about it? Did you lie to them, too?”

“I didn’t lie to them or anyone else about anything, Richard, and yes, they know everything.”

Brynne didn’t know how the wicked woman had found out about her marriage to Jake not being legal. Then again, with the right amount of money and time it wouldn’t have been that difficult. Brynne wasn’t even sure she cared. She’d planned to tell Richard everything, and while she knew he might have a difficult time of it, his reaction was much worse than she’d imagined.

Brynne glared at him, anger beginning to replace her fear and sadness. “My marriage to Jake was binding in every way that mattered and my so-called marriage to Leo was annulled, which means by all accounts, legal and religious, it never existed. So really, there was nothing to tell you about. The marriage was never real. Never consummated. It was a sham, a protective measure to help me and my sisters. Once the…situation had been taken care of, our marriage was annulled and we both went on with our lives.”

Richard shook his head. “Brynne, you must understand how…how this all looks. Annulled or not, you were married to your brother-in-law, who is now still your brother-in-law because he’s married to your sister.”

Yes, Brynne could see how it would look to him. She’d only come across one other divorced woman since she’d been in Boston. The poor woman had been completely shunned. No one who was anyone would receive her. Her husband and his pretty new wife fared much better. And if one past husband was enough to taint a woman’s reputation, then Brynne was doubly damned.

Brynne’s anger burned hotter and she tried to wrangle it in. The circumstances that had forced her into a sham marriage with her brother-in-law had been extreme and life-threatening, not only for her but for her sisters and the entire town. Richard had no right to judge her for what she’d done to keep others safe. But she tried to be fair. She could see his side, could understand the shock of what he’d learned.

“Richard, I can understand your feelings on the matter. I can, truly. But you must understand as well. I had no choice in the matter. It was literally a matter of life and death and my future wasn’t the only one in jeopardy. I did what I had to do and I won’t apologize for that. As soon as I could, I ended the marriage, and while we were married, absolutely nothing happened between us.”

“But your first marriage…was it even a marriage? You lived with him as man and wife, but if you weren’t legally married then…”

Yes, what then? Then she was a harlot who’d willingly born the bastard child of a man she’d bedded without the benefit of a pastor. Such a foul and unjust epitaph for what had been a pure and wonderful love.

A lump rose in the back of Brynne’s throat. She wouldn’t apologize for or be made to feel ashamed for her short life with Jake. No one had the right to sully that memory, not even Richard.

“I lived as Jake’s wife for less than a month before he was murdered. Life is different out there, Richard. There isn’t a pastor on every street corner waiting to legally join wayward couples in holy matrimony. We were bound before the eyes of God in the only way we were able and Jake was murdered before all the right papers could be signed.”

Brynne took a deep breath and tried to keep her anger in check. Richard had a right to know what had happened in her past, yes. But no one had the right to tarnish even one memory of her past with her first love. “The only ones who have even a modicum of relevance in what occurred between Jake and I are the Forresters. And if they have no issue with it, certainly no one else has that right.”

Richard sighed and leaned against his desk. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Brynne took a step closer to him. “I would have. Today. Before I accepted your proposal, I was planning on telling you everything.”

Richard’s gaze shot up, and for a moment he looked happy, before the shuttered look reappeared. He frowned. “I’ll admit this has been hard to take in. And I might be able to understand it, but I would like to hear the whole story from you before we proceed further.”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed, but Richard wasn’t done yet.

“The problem, you see, is that Mrs. Morey is the one who brought this little gem from your past to my attention. Which means by dinner tonight, the whole of Boston will be buzzing with it. Even if I am able to look past it, I don’t know that others will.”

Brynne held her breath. “What are you saying, Richard?”

“I don’t know,” he said, rubbing his hand over his face.

“Do you no longer love me?”

Richard’s head jerked up. “Of course I still love you. This hasn’t changed my feelings for you, though I wish I had heard these sordid little details from your lips instead of Mrs. Morey’s.”

Brynne’s anger spiked. “There are no sordid details, Richard. This wasn’t some shameful incident to be ashamed of. I did what I needed to do to protect those I cared about. A marriage—to a good, kind, respectable man, mind you—that was never truly a marriage was annulled, thereby rendered non-existent, which means there really was nothing to tell. The tittle-tattles can spin this any way they like, but nothing untoward happened, ever.”

“That may be true, Brynne. But the gossip harpies are rarely concerned with the truth.” He took her hands in his. “Perhaps we should take some time and wait for this to pass before we announce anything. Give the rumor mongers time to find something else to feast on.”

“Richard…”

“I’m only concerned about you, Brynne, how this will affect you. And Lucy, and Coraline. The social mills haven’t been too kind to you for lesser infractions than this. No sense in giving them even more meat to chew.”

“Really? Your only concern is for me?” she asked, pulling her hands from his. “You seem more concerned with how everyone else will see this. I’ve told you the truth, Richard. So why does what happened years ago matter now unless you are concerned about your own reputation? Mine wasn’t that great to begin with.”

“Brynne…”

She shook her head, swallowing back her tears. She wouldn’t let him see how badly he’d hurt her. How his “concern” cut through her like a blade. She squared her shoulders and faced him. “I’ll make this easy for you Richard. I am sorry, but I must decline your offer of marriage.”

Richard straightened. “Brynne.” He reached for her, but she stepped back out of his reach.

“No, Richard. You are right. The gossip mongers will be spreading my sordid little tale from one end of Massachusetts to the other. The last thing in the world I want is for my supposed disgraceful past to reflect poorly on you.”

She took another step back. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, Richard. I really am. But I truly didn’t think it would matter to you. You said you loved me. It honestly didn’t occur to me that something from my past, that by all accounts never happened, would make one hill of beans of a difference to you. I’m sorry to find that I was wrong.”

She needed to get out of there before she lost her composure completely.

“Brynne, wait.”

Brynne shook her head. “Goodbye, Richard.”

She turned and fled, not caring that the tears she could no longer keep at bay were flowing down her cheeks. The bastard had made her care about him only to tear her heart to shreds at the first test. Better she find out now that he wasn’t the man she thought he was. She was better off without him.

She wondered how long it would take before she believed that.

Chapter Fifteen

Brynne didn’t want to give up her time at the clinic, but she wasn’t sure how Richard would react if she still came in. She moped around the house for a week until at last Taggart stepped in.

“Ma’am, if I might make a suggestion?”

“Of course, Taggart.”

“Go back to the clinic.”

Brynne started shaking her head but stopped. Why shouldn’t she? There was nothing for her to do around the house. Lucy and Coraline were still gone. Her in-laws had gone back to Maryland and a series of storms had blown in that kept them put. They’d sent a letter saying they’d return home as soon as the weather and roads permitted and assured Brynne that Coraline was having a grand time on the ranch.

That warmed Brynne’s heart, thinking of her daughter playing with the animals and running about in the clean, fresh air. Perhaps Brynne should take Coraline back to California. Cilla and Leo had a child of their own now. It would be wonderful to see their children playing together, roaming the ranch and riding the horses like Brynne and her sisters had done when they were growing up.

And at least in California, she wouldn’t have to deal with the ridiculous prejudice that she faced in Boston. Prejudice that was about to get much worse. She hadn’t ever been the toast of the party, but at least she’d been tolerated. But since Mrs. Morey’s version of Brynne’s past had been spread around to all and sundry, all invitations to Brynne had ceased.

Perhaps she should go back to the clinic. She didn’t necessarily need to see Richard. There were plenty of things she could do that would allow her to help out without bringing her into contact with him. That is, if she could get past the front door.

“What if they won’t let me back?”

“At least you’ll know.”

Brynne pondered that for a second. He was right. No sense in sulking around when there were others with worse difficulties who could use her help.

“Taggart, would you be so kind as to bring me my cloak and tell Charlie to prepare the carriage?”

“Right away, ma’am.”

When Brynne arrived at the clinic, she didn’t allow herself the chance to lose her nerve. She climbed down from the carriage, marched right up the front steps, and opened the door. Mrs. Birch looked at her with surprise and, Brynne was surprised to see, pleasure.

“Welcome back, Mrs. Forrester. We’re a bit busy this morning. We could use your help in the infirmary if you’d be willing to lend a hand.”

“I’d be happy to, Mrs. Birch, thank you.”

The woman gave her a small smile and went back to her work. Brynne was nearly speechless that the woman hadn’t thrown her right out on her ear, but she certainly wasn’t going to question it. She hung up her cloak and got straight to work.

…

Richard went about his work, his mood growing more foul by the hour. He’d been a fool to let Brynne go. Yes, she’d kept her past from him, but she hadn’t deceived him, not really. She was right…what had happened wasn’t nearly as bad as Mrs. Morey had made out. He’d been a fool to let the old biddy color his opinions. But he’d been so taken aback by her revelations that he hadn’t known what to think. And now it was too late.

He could still see the stricken look on Brynne’s face when she’d walked out of his office. He’d do anything to take it back, make it right between them. Every day that passed without seeing her was a torture he couldn’t bear. A self-inflicted torture, he reminded himself.

He’d almost decided to march over to her house and demand that she see him when he entered the infirmary and saw her in the back making up a bed. He froze, not sure what to do. He was afraid that if he made any sudden movements he would spook her and she’d be off again.

Richard knew the moment she realized he was in the room. Her body stiffened and she darted a glance at him. Their gazes locked for a moment and he would have given anything to have her run across the room and throw herself into his arms.

But he’d destroyed any chance of that happening. Perhaps he should go to her. He took a step in her direction, but Brynne shook her head. It was a slight, almost imperceptible motion, but glaringly obvious nonetheless.

She’d come back to the clinic, not to him.

He turned around before she could see the smile that spread across his lips. She might not be willing to forgive him yet, but she had come back. Back to his clinic, his home. It was only a matter of time, he hoped, before she’d come back to him as well. And he was going to do everything in his power to make sure she did.

When his messenger boy came running in, it took a second for Richard to realize what the boy was saying.

“What? What did you say? Slow down, boy.”

“Your warehouse, sir. It’s burning. The fire brigade is trying to stop it, but it looks bad.”

Richard stormed into the foyer and grabbed his coat from the hook. If that warehouse burned, it could ruin him. He housed much of his family’s heirlooms there, treasures and antiques that he’d cleared out of the house in order to make room for his clinic. The truly valuable stuff was kept at the bank or in the vault in his bedroom, but to lose the warehouse would be a tragedy of epic proportions, as well as a sizable blow to his assets.

He hurried out the door after the lad, catching Brynne’s eye as he did. He had no doubt she would be right on his heels.

Again it struck him how much he had truly missed her. How wonderful it had been to always have her at his back, no matter what the situation. He needed her, in the good times and the bad.

He was going to get her back. But first, he had to find out how much of his future had gone up in flames.

Richard watched bleakly as the fire brigade did their best to extinguish the flames tearing through his warehouse. Luckily, they had been alerted quickly and had lost no time in getting to the scene. The last thing anyone wanted was for the flames to spread to other buildings. The whole city could be ablaze in a matter of minutes. But Richard’s warehouse stood near the water in a space all on its own so the dangers of the fire spreading were slim. And the fire hadn’t been large to begin with.

In fact, by the time Richard and Brynne had arrived, the flames had been mostly contained. Apparently, Richard’s enemies wanted to merely warn him instead of decimating him. Which made sense, Richard thought as he looked at the note in his hand. A boy had delivered the note while the flames devoured a large chunk of his family’s wealth. If the bastard thieves had reduced his fortune too much, he wouldn’t be able to pay the exorbitant amount of money they wanted in exchange for the medical supplies they’d stolen.

They were giving him one last chance to make good on the deal they’d made before, the one he hadn’t needed to keep because of Brynne. They had the rest of his supplies, and for double the price, he could have what remained of the shipment. Or, should he choose not to accept and make good on their original, now slightly altered deal, he could expect worse retribution.

Richard risked a glance at her. She stood staring at his building, her face set in an expression he was beginning to know well. He’d shared the note with her. No reason not to since, for better or worse, she had become involved with the knaves who’d done this. Brynne turned to meet his gaze.

“Don’t worry, Richard. This time, I won’t leave them anything to bargain with.”

“You are not going after them again, Brynne.”

“Why ever not?” she asked, seeming truly astonished.

“They are dangerous.”

“Oh, bosh,” she snorted and turned her attention back to the warehouse, but Richard grasped her arms and turned her back to him.

“I mean it, Brynne. I don’t want you anywhere near these men.”

“Richard, I appreciate your concern—”

“My concern? Damn it all, woman. I love you! No matter what has passed between us of late, nothing has changed that. I will not let you risk your neck over this.”

Brynne’s face softened and she reached up to caress his cheek. “I love you too, Richard. Which gives me even more reason to help you when I can. You need those supplies. It’s my fault for leaving so much behind the first time. I’ll get them for you. There is no way I’m going to allow you to pay for something that is already yours, especially after this,” she said, waving a hand at his smoking warehouse.

“Brynne—”

“It isn’t as dangerous as you are thinking it is. The last time it was almost too easy. I won’t be in any danger.”

“Last time was different,” he said, pulling her away from the other spectators. “They’ll be waiting for you this time.”

“Despite what you think, I don’t simply traipse in on a lick and a promise. I’m a little more fond of my life than that. Give me some credit, Richard. I’ve been doing this a long time. I know how to deal with people like this.”

For a moment, he was confused. Then he remembered. Ah yes, her days riding with her sister the bandit. He still had a hard time envisioning the woman before him duded up like a notorious outlaw.

He studied the stubborn set of her chin, the determination flashing in her eyes, and knew there would be no talking her out of it. “Fine. Then I’m going with you.”

“Oh no, you’re not.”

“I have every right to go, Brynne. It’s my money, my supplies, my vendetta. And I am not going to let you go alone.”

“I won’t be alone. I have someone who will help me.”

“Who?”

“That doesn’t matter. It’s someone I trust who has helped me before.”

Richard frowned. “I’m coming, Brynne.”

“You’ll only be in the way. You don’t know the first thing about…” Her eyes darted about the crowd and she leaned in to whisper, “This sort of thing.”

“Then I guess you’ll have to teach me, because you are not going without me.”

“Excuse me, sir.” A police officer approached them, looking between them with a wary look in his eye. “Is everything all right here?” He addressed that remark to Brynne with a pointed look at where Richard was grasping her arm.

“We are fine, sir, thank you. Merely a very difficult night.”

“Yes, of course. Regarding that, Dr. Oliver, I have been assured that the flames have been completely extinguished and most of your property was salvaged, though there may be some smoke and water damage. The fire was set in an empty corner of the warehouse. We believe it may have been set by a squatter trying to find shelter or some such miscreant who’d perhaps been trying to warm themselves. Most of the damage was contained to a small area of the building.”

Richard nodded. “I’m sure that’s all it was. Thank you so much, Officer.”

The policeman tipped his hat to them and went back to his men.

The moment his back was turned, Richard turned his attention back to Brynne. But she was gone.

“Damn that woman,” Richard muttered. He wasn’t going to let her get away with her crazy scheme. At least, not without him. He searched through the crowd for a few minutes but didn’t see any sign of her. He had no idea how she’d disappeared so quickly, but he had no delusions about where she’d gone. He climbed in his carriage and told the driver to go to Brynne’s house. He wasn’t sure where she’d be going that night, but he was relatively sure she wouldn’t be able to gad about thieving in her full skirts and bonnet. She’d need a change of clothing first. And he’d be waiting when she left her house again.

She was faster than he had assumed she’d be. He’d only been hiding in the shadows in front of her house for about ten minutes before he spotted a dark-clothed figure leading a horse from the stables. Before she could mount, Richard stepped from his hiding place. Brynne gasped and shoved a hand against her mouth to keep from screaming.

Before Richard could say a word, he found himself flat on his back, a blade pressed to his throat.

His adventure into banditry was off to a fine start.

Chapter Sixteen

“Good evening, Taggart,” Richard said.

Taggart looked down at him, one eyebrow slightly raised in surprise. “Good evening, Dr. Oliver,” he said, making no move to release Richard.

Seeing Richard pinned on the ground at her feet gave Brynne a small twinge of satisfaction, but one that was quickly buried beneath a wave of fear for him. The stubborn man was going to get himself killed. He was certainly going to get in the way. But since he seemed every bit as pig-headed as she was, it looked like she was stuck with him for the moment.

“Let him up,” Brynne said, her voice full of defeat.

Taggart jumped up and held a hand out to Richard. Richard accepted it, pulling himself to his feet.

“What are you doing here?” Brynne asked.

Richard didn’t bother to answer. “Where are we off to?”

She scowled at him and he gave her his most angelic smile. Brynne bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling back. “Stay out of the way and do exactly as I tell you.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Richard said, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was enjoying himself.

His satisfaction faded into shock when he got a good look at her. “What are you wearing?”

Brynne sighed, seeming to remember those exact words coming from her brother-in-law Leo when he’d first seen Cilla in her men’s clothing.

“You don’t honestly expect me to be able to rob a warehouse in full skirts and corset, do you?”

His forehead crinkled. “I suppose not. But…” His eyes roamed over her, lingering on her trouser-encased leg that was firmly astride her horse. Richard’s frown relaxed into a much more appreciative expression that had Brynne’s insides quivering with delight. She did her best to stamp the feeling down. There was no time for that at the moment.

“You came in your carriage?” she asked him.

“Yes. Should I un-harness the horse?”

“No. We are trying to be as invisible as possible. The last thing we need is another horse. We don’t want to take an entire posse in there.”

Brynne frowned, but there was no help for it. She’d rather not take any horses at all, but they needed to be able to get out quick and carrying stolen supplies on foot wasn’t going to work.

She sighed and swung up onto her horse. “Come on,” she said, jerking her head at him.

Richard swung up behind her. “Try not to look so defeated. It isn’t the end of the world you know.”

“It might be,” she muttered.

Richard chuckled and wrapped his arms about her waist, pulling her back into his chest. For a moment, Brynne forgot everything but the feel of him pressed against her, the familiar scent of him enveloping her. She’d missed him.

He nuzzled her neck, pressing a kiss to the pulse jumping beneath the tender skin. “I’ve missed you,” he said, echoing her thoughts.

She pressed back into him farther, tucking her head beneath his neck. It wasn’t the time or place, but she couldn’t think clearly with him wrapped about her. When this was all over, they were going to have a serious discussion. She hadn’t forgiven him yet for his lack of faith in her, but maybe they could work through that. Later. Right now they had a job to do.

Taggart cleared his throat and Brynne straightened. Richard’s arms loosened enough for her to sit forward, but he kept them about her waist.

“Let’s go,” she said, leading the way.

They took as many backstreets as they could, keeping to the shadows. The freezing temperature aided them. No one was out and about on such a night. Brynne was almost shivering by the time they reached the warehouse. She dismounted, pulling her coat closer about her. They tied their horses up behind the same building they had before and made sure there was no one about before they hurried across the street to the small window she’d used.

Richard followed Taggart’s lead, pressing as close to the wall as they could while Brynne shimmied to the window and looked through. Pitch dark. Nothing that betrayed the presence of the thieves or anything else.

She divested herself of her coat and handed Taggart her gun. He looked at her, eyebrow raised. “We’ve riled them this time. Better to be prepared if necessary, and besides, I’d rather not leave it lying on the ground by the window again. I’ll get it back from you when I come back out.”

Taggart hesitated but nodded his agreement and Brynne turned to wiggle through the window.

Richard made a choked sound of protest as she disappeared through the window, but she ignored him and eased herself into the building, dropping to the balls of her feet behind a stack of boxes. She waited for a moment, straining her senses for any sound that might indicate she wasn’t alone.

There was nothing.

Brynne crouched down and started to creep out from behind the boxes when a sound from above froze her in her steps. She looked toward the window in time to see Richard drop through it. She didn’t know how he’d managed to squeeze his shoulders through and debated sending him right back out, but as he was already inside, he might as well help grab the supplies.

Taggart’s angry face appeared briefly in the window. As soon as he saw that they were both accounted for, he backed off to stand guard.

Brynne glared at Richard, letting all the fear and fury raging through her show on her face. Richard flinched a bit, but didn’t back off. He put his lips to her ear. “I told you, I go where you go.”

Brynne shook him off with a scowl. The man was going to be the death of her.

She held her finger up to her mouth and crept around the corner of the boxes. Richard followed, close enough that he could follow right in her footsteps, but not so close that he’d hamper her movements. She led the way up the stairs toward the front of the warehouse where she’d found the supplies the first time.

There they were. Boxes of linens, equipment, and medicines that should have been in Richard’s clinic. She felt Richard stiffen beside her in fury. She felt the same way, but they had no time for it now. They needed to grab the most important items and get out.

The absolute stillness of the warehouse grated at her nerves. Something was off, wrong. There was no way the thieves would leave everything out in the open with no guard. No dogs. Not after last time. The supplies should be harder to get to, not easier. They must have expected another theft attempt. She paused again, searching the darkness for any sign of danger. But there was nothing alarming. Which in and of itself terrified her.

She and Richard crept to the box labeled Fragile. She looked about the space and grabbed a thin crowbar from a pile of tools near the crates.

Richard’s eyes widened, a small smile creeping across his face. She pointed to her eyes and then at the inky blackness around them, reminding him he was supposed to be keeping watch.

He nodded and returned his attention to the warehouse. Faint traces of moonlight filtered in, giving them barely enough light to see by. It was helpful, but Brynne would have preferred no light at all. Hopefully, by the time they left, the clouds that had been rolling in all evening would give them more cover, though Brynne prayed the snow would hold off until they were well away. The last thing they needed was a trail of footprints in their wake.

The lid of the crate creaked as she pried the nails from the lid. The sound echoed and Brynne paused again. Nothing.

The sense of unease filled her, making her skin crawl. They needed to get out of there. Now.

She finished opening the crate as quickly as she could and motioned Richard over. They stared into the depths of the box.

“Which?” she whispered.

Richard quickly went over the contents, pulling out bottles and packages and handing them to Brynne. She yanked a sack from where it hung out of her back pocket and filled it with the items he handed her. The bottles clanked gently together and Brynne gritted her teeth. All this would be for naught if they shattered before they could get them home. She tried to pack the bags of herbs between the bottles to cushion them as much as possible.

After several moments, Richard turned, handing her the last of the supplies he wanted. “That should be more than enough,” he whispered in her ear.

Brynne nodded and handed him the bag. He cradled it in his arms rather than let it swing free. Brynne nodded. That should help keep the items from clanking together. She replaced the lid on the box, not bothering to hammer it back down. They didn’t have the time and risking the noise it would make was pointless. The thieves would know they’d been there soon enough.

Brynne and Richard made their way back to the window as quickly as they could. Once there, Richard handed her the bag and bent over, locking his hands together for her to use as a foothold. She grasped the windowsill and let Richard boost her up. She pushed the bag through and hauled herself out after it.

She looked around. Snowflakes landed on her cheeks, chilling her skin. And Taggart was gone.

Richard pulled himself out behind her, pushing through first one shoulder and then the other. Brynne grabbed an arm and helped pull him out. He stood and brushed himself off.

“Where’s Taggart?” he whispered.

“I don’t know, but I don’t like this. He was supposed to wait for us right here.” Brynne looked around, but there was no sign of her butler. “We can’t wait. Let’s check the alley.”

Richard nodded grimly and followed her back to the alley where they’d left the horses, his eyes darting behind them often, watching as she did for any sign of being pursued. Apprehension crept through Brynne, making her spine tingle and her skin crawl. The whole heist had been way too easy. Something was definitely not right. But she wasn’t going to stick around and wait for whatever it was to make itself known. They needed to get to their horses and get out of there. Fast.

They hurried across the lane and turned into the alley where their horses…were nowhere to be found.

Richard’s outraged gasp echoed Brynne’s own.

“That blackguard Taggart has made off with our means of escape,” Richard hissed.

“We don’t know that Taggart did this. Perhaps he was taken. The horses could have run off or been set loose or taken by the thieves.”

Richard’s gaze shot to hers, his frown deepening. “Then why didn’t we see any sign of a struggle. We heard nothing.”

Brynne shook her head, dread filling her to the core. “I don’t—”

Click.

Brynne froze, raising her hands as she slowly turned her head to look at the man who aimed the pistol at her.

“You come along nice and quiet and no one’ll get hurt.” The man jerked his head to the side and stood back a little to give Brynne and Richard room to pass.

Gentlemanly of him. But Brynne wasn’t in a gentle mood. She moved past him, keeping him in her side vision. When she drew level with him she squared her shoulders, then ducked and lunged, throwing her arms up to knock the man’s gun arm off kilter while her shoulder rammed into his belly.

His shot went wild, the sound ringing through the quiet night. Richard shouted behind her and to his credit, didn’t falter, but immediately jumped to assist her in grappling with the man. The man tried to bring his gun level again, but Brynne seized his arm and bit down hard. He howled and dropped the gun. It clattered off into a ditch and Brynne cursed under her breath. So much for shooting the bastard with his own gun. She sent up another curse at Taggart for making off with her gun.

Before she could attack again, he swung, his fist connecting with her jaw.

Brynne went sprawling, her vision flashing black and white dots. Her jaw throbbed in time with her heartbeat. Richard flew at the man with a grunt of rage, pummeling him within an inch of his life. Two more men came running around the corner and Brynne shouted a warning.

Richard jumped off the man he was on, since he didn’t seem likely to go anywhere, and rushed to Brynne. He pulled her to her feet and they both stood ready when the other men reached them. Brynne reached behind her and grabbed the knife she kept in a sheath at the small of her back. The men rushing them slowed when they saw the weapon, still advancing, but more warily.

Richard’s eyes widened, but again, his reaction surprised her. “Got another one of those?”

Brynne grinned. “As a matter of fact, I do.” She reached down and pulled the knife she always kept in her boot. “Be careful with that,” she said, handing it to him.

Richard snorted. “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“You have no idea. Watch out!”

The men had gotten tired of circling them and came at them in a rush. Brynne tried to ignore what was going on with Richard and keep her attention on her own opponent, but every shout and grunt made it a chore to keep her wits on her own problems. Well-bred Richard wasn’t as used to hand-to-hand combat as Brynne, and she feared how he was faring.

Although, if his man was as inept as the one fighting her, Richard was probably doing fine. It never ceased to amaze her how many men would underestimate a woman solely based on her gender. It didn’t matter that she stood there holding a knife as long as her forearm. She was female and therefore, in most men’s minds, not a threat. She was only too happy to show the imbecile in front of her how wrong he was.

The man circled her with a leering grin. “Come on, lovey. Put that toad sticker down before you hurt somebody. Come on, be a nice girl and maybe old Tommy’ll take it easy on you.”

“I wasn’t raised to be a nice girl,” Brynne said.

Old Tommy lunged at her but Brynne saw the move coming and easily dodged him. She slashed his arm, not bothering to hide her satisfaction when he howled in pain.

“You’ll pay for that, you little bitch.”

“Promises, promises.”

He came at her again with renewed effort, trying his hardest to land some blows while staying out of range of her knife. She managed to cut him once more, but on her third attempt, he blocked her, getting hold of her wrist and twisting around until she cried out in pain and was forced to drop the knife.

He laughed, his foul breath gagging her as he dragged her close. “Now we’ll have a bit o’ fun, shall we?”

The noises from Richard’s side of the alley were growing more intense and desperate. She needed to end this little tete-a-tete and get Richard out of there before more of the goons showed up and they were seriously out numbered.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your kind invitation,” Brynne said. “I’ve had enough fun for one night.”

She dropped to the ground, ignoring the painful wrench in her shoulder and rolled. The sudden change in position jerked her arm from the man’s grip. Brynne rolled onto her back, drew her feet up against her chest, and kicked out with all her strength, ramming her feet into the man’s knee caps.

Good old Tommy dropped, bellowing loud enough to wake the dead. Brynne retrieved her knife and ran toward Richard and his man.

“Richard,” she gasped, his name escaping her lips before she could stop it.

Richard pulled his attention from his opponent for a split second. But that was all the man needed. He lunged, the blade in his hand flashing silver in the moonlight. Brynne called out a warning and Richard jumped to the side.

But he wasn’t quite fast enough. The blade slashed across his thigh, opening a streak of red that splattered against the brick wall next to him. Richard shouted and went down.

Brynne swallowed the scream that was trying to claw its way out of her throat and got a firm grip on her knife. She rushed toward them, thankful the goon had all his attention on Richard. When she reached them, she gripped the heavy handle of her blade and slammed it into the man’s skull. He dropped like a sack of flour and lay unmoving on the ground at Richard’s feet.

The man Brynne had fought was still howling in the corner of the alley, trying to drag himself to his feet. Brynne was pretty sure she’d dislocated at least one of his knees, so he wasn’t going anywhere in a hurry. But the racket he was making was sure to bring someone running.

Brynne stooped and wrapped an arm around Richard’s waist. “Come on,” she said, grunting as she helped him stand. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

Richard nodded and got himself upright. Brynne turned to steer him out of the alley, but Richard pulled against her. “Wait.”

He broke from her grasp, ignoring her hiss of impatience. He hopped over to the sack lying against the wall and gathered it up.

“It would be a shame to go through all this for naught,” he said with a wry grin.

Brynne’s lips twitched. “Good point. Now we must hurry!”

“One more thing.” Richard limped toward the man Brynne had felled and leaned down. “If I were less than a gentleman, I’d do much worse to you than this. But I do not have the time to give you what you really deserve.”

“Go to hell.”

Richard slammed his fist into the man’s face. “You first,” he muttered.

Chapter Seventeen

Richard’s hand throbbed and his stomach clenched at the sight of the man crumpling under his fist. He’d never struck a man so forcefully in his life. But he’d do worse than that if it kept Brynne from danger.

Brynne cocked an eyebrow at him.

“We couldn’t very well have him crawling off to find his mates or sounding the alarm.”

Brynne nodded in agreement, but she looked a bit unsettled, as if she wasn’t sure what to make of the more ruthless side of him. Of course, she’d never seen anything but the kind, gentle Richard. He didn’t enjoy causing anyone pain, but he would do what he needed to when necessary.

“Come,” she said, looping her arm about his waist. “We need to get you home so we can get that leg taken care of.

Richard leaned heavily on Brynne, who steadied him as much as she could. They struggled for what seemed like hours, staggering through the ever-deepening snow. Between the drifts that were soon ankle deep and getting deeper, and Richard’s nearly useless leg, they were making very slow progress.

“Brynne, leave me here. Go for help.”

She was shaking her head before he had finished speaking. “If I leave you here, you’ll die. We are almost there, we can make it.”

She had a point. Richard made a renewed effort, helping to propel them forward as much as possible. He tried to keep as much of his weight as he could off her slender shoulders, but Brynne simply held tighter to his waist and the arm he’d draped across her shoulders. He risked a quick glance behind them and breathed a sigh of relief that whatever blood they were leaving was being rapidly covered, along with their footprints, by the still falling snow. As long as the bastards who’d attacked them weren’t too close on their trail, they might have a good chance of escaping undetected.

After what felt like a lifetime, the welcoming glow of Brynne’s townhouse came into view.

“Thank heavens,” she whispered.

Richard snorted in agreement and together they stumbled up the steps. Brynne rang the bell while Richard banged on the door. It opened mid-bang and Richard sent up a quick prayer of thanks for Taggart’s quick response. Brynne and Richard half dragged each other into the warmth of the house.

“Madam! Thank God you are all right.” Taggart jumped forward and draped Richard’s other arm over his shoulder, helping Brynne to get him inside. Once they were in with the door safely closed behind them, Richard brushed them both off.

“What happened, Taggart?” Richard asked, grunting as Brynne pulled the boot from his injured leg.

Taggart grimaced. “I’m afraid I’m not sure, sir.”

Richard glowered, but his anger didn’t seem to bother Taggart. “What do you mean, you’re not sure?”

“They must have got the drop on me, sir. One minute I was keeping watch outside the window and the next thing I remember I was lying face down in the snow on the opposite side of the building. I made my way back to the window, but I didn’t see any sign of you there. But there were footprints leading to the alley where we’d left the horses and the horses were gone. I assumed you’d left, had perhaps been running from whoever jumped me, so I made my way home as fast as I could only to find you hadn’t arrived yet. I was about to head back out to look for you.”

He did appear to have been interrupted as he’d been putting on extra layers for traveling outside. He wore his thick outdoor coat and had one glove on. And he was sporting a nicely blackening bruise on his right temple. Richard wasn’t entirely convinced Taggart was telling the truth, but his story was plausible enough. And at the moment, Richard couldn’t gather enough energy to care one way or the other. If the man was lying, Richard would take care of it later.

“I’ll ready a guest bedroom, ma’am,” Taggart said, giving Richard a pointed look before hurrying up the stairs to see to Richard’s accommodations for the night.

“Come on,” Brynne said, looping her arm back around his waist. He draped his arm over her shoulders, glad of the excuse to hold her close to him. She was stronger than she looked. While it was an obvious struggle for her to support his weight, she still managed, even as they began their slow ascent up the stairs. She never ceased to amaze him, this little spitfire that had wormed her way into his heart.

By the time they made it to the second floor, they were both panting. Brynne steered him into a guest bedroom where a cheery fire was beginning to crackle. Taggart tossed another log onto the flames and straightened.

“I’ll have Mary bring up some hot tea and perhaps something to eat,” Taggart said to Brynne.

“Thank you, Taggart. That would be lovely. Can you also have her bring some hot water?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He left without another glance at Richard.

“Not an admirer of mine, I see,” Richard said.

Brynne shrugged, her eyes twinkling with amusement. “He’s a bit protective of me. And I suspect he’s a bit put out that he allowed those scoundrels to sneak up on him. He must have a dreadful headache. That would make anyone cranky.”

“True.” Richard smiled.

“I’m going to get out of these wet clothes. There should be a spare robe you can put on in the wardrobe.” Brynne pointed to the armoire in the corner. “I’ll…be back in a moment and we’ll look at your leg.”

She gazed at him for a moment, her mouth working as if she would say something more, before she turned on her heel and left. Richard stared after her, his eyes taking in every inch of her. The snow had molded her already indecently tight clothing even more to her shapely figure. He wanted nothing more than to follow her to her room, peel the wet clothing from her body, and spend the rest of the night warming her inch by inch. Repeatedly.

He drew in a jagged breath and went to the wardrobe. A thick robe hung there, along with a very warm looking pair of slippers. Richard ignored his pain and grabbed the robe and slippers. He removed his clothing as fast as possible, hissing as his wet trousers stuck a bit to the gash in his thigh. Luckily, it didn’t look too deep and their journey through the snowstorm had helped reduce some of the swelling and blood loss. He would need to stitch it closed though.

He stood by the fire, warming himself as much as possible. A quiet knock sounded at his door and he drew the folds of the robe about him, tying it securely before he called “Come in.”

Brynne entered, carrying what looked like a sewing kit. Two maids were behind her, one carrying a steaming kettle, the other a tray of tea and food. Thank heavens. He was starving. And the tea would go a long way toward warming him up. Then again, as he took in Brynne, who was wrapped in her own thick robe, her damp hair trailing down her back in a loose braid, a few hours alone with her might heat him up even more.

He shook his head. What kind of lecher was he to be lusting after a woman while he stood in her home bruised and bleeding?

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing at a chair close to the fire.

Richard’s lips twitched, but he followed her orders. She directed the maids where to put the trays they’d brought up and then dismissed them. They left, leaving the door open several inches in what he assumed was an effort at making the situation a bit more proper.

Richard’s eyes widened in surprise when Brynne knelt at his feet and made to pull back the folds of his robe. He must have made some noise that she took for protest (though nothing could be farther from the truth) because she turned her impatient gaze to him and firmly grasped the edge of his robe. “I need to see how bad your leg is and stitch it if necessary.”

He almost pointed out that he was the doctor and, as such, was fully capable of stitching himself up, but the sight of her pulling back his robe had him biting his tongue to keep the words from escaping. At the first tentative brush of her fingers along his thigh, he knew he’d gladly sport a hideous scar for the rest of his life before he’d stop her from touching him.

Brynne muttered something under her breath as she gently probed the gash. Richard sucked in his breath when she pressed along the edges of the wound.

“Sorry,” she murmured. She sat back. “It definitely needs to be stitched.” She went about gathering her supplies, Richard’s surprise growing more and more as she got everything ready.

She lifted his leg a bit to put a folded towel beneath it and the movement caused his dressing gown to slide farther open, revealing much more of his anatomy than she’d expected to see.

Brynne froze, still supporting the weight of his thigh with one hand. Richard wondered if she even realized that she was staring at him since she made no move to cover him back up or look away. Far be it for him to disturb her enjoyment of the view he had to offer. Unfortunately, the leg she held began to throb and his involuntary hiss at the pain shooting up his thigh brought her back to her senses.

She flushed scarlet from the roots of her hair down to her neck and Richard couldn’t hold back a satisfied chuckle as he pulled the robe back into its proper place. Brynne dropped his leg onto the towel, eliciting another gasp of pain from him. A smug smile briefly danced across her lips and Richard laughed again. He’d deserved that.

Brynne ignored him as she finished her preparations. She handed him a glass of whiskey. “Drink.”

He didn’t wait for her to tell him again. Already the flames of hell licked at his leg, and he knew once she started stitching the pain would only get worse. He forced two quick gulps, welcoming the fire burning down his throat.

She waited a moment, letting the liquor take some effect before she poured a healthy dose of it over his leg. A stream of fire hit his wound and he hissed. Brynne gently cleaned the area, her hands steady and quick.

“You really have a flare for this, don’t you? Perhaps instead of letting you assist me, I should let you take over all the stitching that comes in,” he said, watching as she held a needle over the flame of a candle. Once it had cooled, she plucked some thread from where she’d had it soaking in a bit of the alcohol and carefully threaded the needle.

“Well, my stitches are better than yours,” she answered with a grin, not taking her attention from his leg.

The needle pierced his flesh and Richard gritted his teeth together. He kept his gaze riveted on Brynne’s face, focusing on her instead of the dip and pull of the needle as she sewed his flesh back together. She bit at the corner of her bottom lip while she concentrated on her task. The urge to lean forward and nip at her tender flesh himself was nigh on irresistible. He closed his eyes to shut out the tempting sight. Maybe he’d do better to focus on the back of his eyelids until she’d finished.

It took an interminably long time.

At last, she snipped the thread with a dainty pair of sewing scissors. He looked down to admire her handiwork.

His eyebrows rose. “Very nice work. One of these days, you’ll have to tell me where you learned to do that.”

She grabbed a strip of clean linen and wrapped it about his leg. He sucked in his breath as her fingers gently skimmed his upper thigh.

“One of these days. Maybe,” she said, carefully tying it off. She gathered her things and stood.

Richard chuckled.

Brynne rolled her eyes and deposited her sewing supplies before pouring him a cup of tea. “Drink this before it gets cold.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

…

Brynne sat in the chair opposite him and drank her own tea. She wasn’t as collected as she hoped she appeared. The wound in his leg had been grave indeed. Truth be told, it was the glimpse she’d had of what lay beneath his robe that had her rattled. It had been a very long time since she’d seen a man unclothed. She ducked her head, hoping he hadn’t seen the heat rising in her cheeks.

“So, where did you learn your stitching skills? You must have sewn a fair amount of wounds back together.”

It took a moment for Brynne’s brain to catch up with what Richard had been saying.

“It’s not a skill most women of your station would be proficient at,” he said.

Brynne snorted. “That’s true enough. Things were a little different in California.”

“Is it really such a wild place?”

“No, not all of it.” Just the tiny town she’d lived in, the one her half-brother had terrorized so much that she and her sisters had had to become bandits in order to keep their ranch and their town from being destroyed.

“So who did you hone your skills on?”

“On myself, mostly.”

His eyes widened again and Brynne smiled. She didn’t want to spill her entire life story to him, but she couldn’t help wanting to shock him either. It was too amusing to watch his eyebrows fly into his hairline whenever she’d make a comment such as that.

“Show me.”

“I beg your pardon?” His simple command had her heart hammering in her chest.

“I’d like to see what I can expect from your handiwork. You said you’d had to stitch up your own wounds on occasion. Show me.”

Brynne licked her suddenly dry lips. Then she caught the amused gleam in his eye. He either didn’t believe her or didn’t believe she’d show him. A slow smile spread over her lips. She could play this game as well as he.

She pulled the sleeve of her robe up to reveal a thin white scar that ran several inches down from her elbow. “I caught my arm on a broken piece of fencing we were mending.”

Richard scooted forward in his chair to get a good look and took her arm in his hands, twisting it gently to catch the firelight. “Very nice work,” he said.

“Thank you.” She put her foot up on the chair beside his leg, her smile widening when he froze. She pulled the robe up a bit, enough to reveal the spot on her ankle where she had a small scar.

“My horse was spooked by a snake and he reared. I fell and landed on a rock.”

Richard reached out, his hand encircling her ankle. Brynne’s heart pounded.

“That must have hurt.” His fingers trailed over the scar, lightly brushing her skin.

“Yes,” she murmured, unable to make her voice work while his hand trailed slowly up her leg. When he reached her calf she pulled from his grasp and took several steps back, but Richard stood and followed her. She kept backing up, heading for the door.

“What about that one?” he asked, pointing at her shoulder.

“Which one?” she asked, already knowing which one he meant. Her back hit the edge of the door, forcing her to stop.

Richard trailed a finger along the scar that poked out from the neckline of her robe. “This one.”

“Oh.” Brynne tried to keep her breathing slow and even but couldn’t seem to catch her breath. “My sister mended that one. Couldn’t reach it myself.”

Richard laughed, though it was different than before. Still amused, yes. But with an intense undertone that hadn’t been there before.

“Talented family.” He reached behind her and slowly pushed the door closed. Brynne kept her back pressed to the wood, walking backwards until the door clicked into place and she was trapped between it and Richard’s arms. He braced a hand on either side of her and leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.

Brynne’s head swam and, for a moment, she let herself be carried away on the wave of sensation that Richard was creating as his lips moved over hers. She knew she couldn’t let him continue.

She turned her face. “Richard,” she breathed. She leaned her forehead against the arm that kept her imprisoned while his lips continued their path over her cheek and neck. “Richard, we shouldn’t.”

Brynne ducked under his arm, but Richard caught her about the waist. “No more running,” he said, drawing her back into his arms, pressing her back to his chest.

He kissed her cheek, the sensitive spot under her ear, and trailed his lips down her neck. She hesitated only a second more and then, with a small groan of surrender, she turned in his arms and leaned in to kiss him back. Her lips met his with a desperation that had been building between them for months. All the looks, the small touches, and the stolen kisses, erupted in a fireball of passion that she was sure would consume them both.

Brynne wrapped her arms around Richard’s neck, her hands tangling in his hair, keeping his mouth molded to hers. He scooped her up and carried her to the bed, not breaking the kiss as he laid her down and stretched out beside her. Her fingers pulled at the ties of his robe and he tore himself away from her only long enough to divest them both of their clothing.

For a moment, he gazed down at her, speechless at the gift she was offering. “You are so unbelievably beautiful.”

She reached up for him, made more confident by the desire she saw in his eyes. “Come here.”

He was more than happy to oblige.

Chapter Eighteen

Brynne squinted against the brilliant light filtering in through a crack in the drapes. With a groan, she rolled over and tucked herself into Richard’s side, sighing when he pulled her tight against him and kissed her head. He wrapped his arms about her and drew her further into the blankets.

She wondered if the snow had melted enough yet for him to leave and found herself fervently hoping that wasn’t the case. The morning after their heist, they’d awoken to find the snow so deep they couldn’t get through the door. Richard said he couldn’t remember a time when it had snowed so much in one night in Boston. And then he’d taken her back to bed and proven what a blessing being snowed in could be. That had been four days ago, and they’d barely left her rooms since then.

Taggart had taken to leaving their meals outside her door and the rest of the staff seemed to have made an agreement to leave the lovers in peace unless they expressly called for something. Which they rarely did. They spent nearly every waking minute reveling in each other.

Brynne burrowed into Richard, burying her face into his neck. He cringed a bit and chuckled. She kissed him under his jaw line, loving that he was ticklish. He growled and rolled her onto her back, putting her lips to much better use.

Brynne was still amazed at how her body responded so completely to Richard’s touch. She’d only had a month with Jake before he’d disappeared. Hardly enough time to learn all the ways one could love. She still had much to learn about the more physical aspects of loving someone. And Richard was only too happy to teach her.

They were both content to take it slow this time, lingering to explore each other, over and over, until there wasn’t a coherent thought left in Brynne’s head. Afterwards, they lay together, Richard’s words floating over her in a pleasant haze.

His soft chuckle caught her attention and she looked up at him.

“You haven’t heard a word I said, have you?”

Brynne gave him a lazy smile. “I heard all of them,” she insisted. “I’m not sure how many actually sank in.”

Richard laughed again and gave her a lingering kiss. “I was saying that if you preferred not to live at the clinic after the wedding, then we can start looking for another home. I would prefer a place a little closer to the clinic than this house is, if you are amenable. However, I know it might be more comfortable for Coraline if we lived here since she is already settled in and if you preferred to stay here, I’ll abide by your choice. If you are open to moving, however, that would be wonderful as I’ll still need to spend a considerable amount of time at the clinic until I can find someone to help me. But I am more than happy to do whatever you feel is best for you and Coraline.”

Richard’s words finally sank in and Brynne sat up, clutching the sheet to her chest. “Richard, slow down. What are you talking about? What wedding?”

Richard frowned. “Our wedding.”

Brynne’s heart skipped several beats and for a split second, she let the exhilaration at the idea of being Richard’s wife flow through her. But the initial jolt of happiness faded quickly. It hadn’t been some declaration of undying love. It hadn’t even been a proposal. He was making plans for their entire future and hadn’t even bothered to ask her about it first.

Brynne opened her mouth to respond but froze, not wanting to say the wrong thing. Overbearing or not, the man wanted to marry her and that wasn’t something she took lightly.

“Richard, why do you think we are getting married?”

He frowned, his forehead crinkling in confusion. “But of course we must get married. My darling, I’ve spent the last four days in your bed. A fact we may be able to keep quiet for a time, but we certainly need to be married as soon as possible.”

Brynne’s happiness faded. “You want to marry me to protect your good name.”

“No.” He took her face in his hands. “To protect you.”

Brynne pulled away from him. It wasn’t a bad reason, really. She was sure there were plenty of men who wanted to marry her for less selfless reasons. Still, she was nobody’s charity mission.

“That’s very kind of you, Richard. But I assure you, it isn’t necessary.”

“Of course it’s necessary. What if you’re with child?”

The image of a baby, one with Richard’s gorgeous blue eyes and adorable dimple, made her falter. But only for a moment.

“That’s unlikely.” She rose from the bed and grabbed her robe from the floor. Their little haven had been ruined.

“Brynne? Have I said something wrong?”

Brynne pulled her robe about her and shoved her feet in her slippers.

“Brynne?”

A knock sounded at the door and Brynne breathed a sigh of relief for the temporary reprieve. She waited a moment while Richard got up and pulled on some clothes and then opened the door. A flustered Mary stood in the hallway.

“Begging your pardon, ma’am. But I’m not sure what to do and I thought I should let you know right away.”

“Let me know what, Mary?”

“It’s Mr. Taggart, ma’am. He’s….” Richard came to stand by Brynne. Mary flushed scarlet and turned her gaze to the floor.

“Mary?” Brynne prompted. “What about Taggart?”

“He’s gone, ma’am. He’s nowhere to be found.”

“Gone?”

Brynne looked at Richard and saw her concern mirrored on his face.

“Did he leave any word? A note? Anything?” Richard asked.

The girl flushed beet red again and wouldn’t meet Richard’s eyes. “No, sir. And when there was no sign of him this morning, we checked his room. His belongings are gone.”

“Does any of the staff know why he’d leave? Have there been any problems?”

“No ma’am, at least none that I know of. He did get a letter two days ago. It upset him something fierce. He went out for a bit and when he came back, he was right as rain again. I didn’t think anything of it until this morning when he just upped and vanished.”

“All right, thank you Mary,” Brynne said, trying to keep her unease from her voice. Why in heaven’s name would Taggart disappear with no word? A ball of worry gnawed at her gut. Taggart knew too many of her secrets. She could only hope, as uncharitable as it was, that his reason for leaving had to do with one of his own countless secrets, rather than with hers.

“Please send Beth to me.”

Mary shuffled her feet. “Well that’s the other thing, ma’am. Beth left a couple days ago.”

“What? Why did no one tell me?”

“Mr. Taggart said as how we weren’t to disturb you; that he’d take care of it.”

“Why did she leave?”

Mary’s blush deepened to such a severe degree that Brynne feared she’d take ill. “Begging your pardon ma’am, but she said…well, she said that she couldn’t abide working in a house…well, that is, working for a woman who…” Her eyes flashed to Richard and she appeared close to tears.

No matter. Brynne knew exactly why Beth had left. “It’s all right, Mary. Don’t trouble yourself.” She patted the poor girl’s arm.

Mary took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “The rest of the staff don’t feel that way, ma’am. We think you’re a good mistress, and as long as you’re happy and what you’re doin’ don’t harm no one, well…that’s all right in our book.”

Brynne smiled, knowing it had taken a great deal of courage for the girl to have spoken as she had. “Thank you, Mary. Give me a few moments and I’ll be down and we’ll get this whole mess sorted out.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Mary hurried off with a relieved smile.

Brynne turned around to find Richard regarding her with a grim countenance. “Do you still wonder why I insist we marry? It will only get worse, Brynne.”

Brynne pushed past him and gathered her undergarments. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“Brynne…”

She held up her hand. “Later, Richard. We need to find out what is going on first.” If he continued to harp on the subject, she was going to lose the tenuous hold she had on her emotions.

Richard looked like was going to argue but instead he held out his hand for her crinoline and corset. She hesitated for a moment but as lacing herself into everything would prove difficult and Beth wasn’t around to do it, she needed his help. He helped her into her hoops and corset and tightened the stays with surprisingly expert fingers. Brynne didn’t want to dwell on why he knew his way around women’s undergarments. She had enough to occupy her mind without adding that.

The fact that Beth had run off hurt more than Brynne wanted to admit. She’d assumed she and the maid had a decent relationship and the maid had certainly considered Richard the catch of the century. Perhaps it didn’t count if one bypassed social protocol and enjoyed the benefits of marriage without the actual wedding. And if Beth felt strongly enough about it to leave Brynne’s service over it, then it was only a matter of time before half the town knew that Richard had spent four days in her bed.

Four wonderful, heart-pounding, unforgettable days.

Brynne sighed. All she had to do was agree to marry him and she could relive the last four days every day for the rest of her life. There would be a hint of scandal about their hasty nuptials, but it would soon blow over. And many couples married for far less reason. At least she and Richard were…compatible. Her cheeks warmed with the memory of exactly how compatible they were. And she knew he cared for her. Was it wrong to want more?

Richard finished lacing her up and helped her get her skirt and petticoats on. For some reason, watching him pull the material over her body and arrange the folds of fabric stirred the fire in her blood almost as much as it had when he’d been removing her clothing. He held out her bodice, letting his fingers brush across her skin as he helped her draw it across her shoulders. Her breath hitched in her throat and the hands that reached up to button the material shook. Richard pushed them aside, smiling down at her as he took over. He carefully arranged the small lace collar at her throat and ran his hands down her ribcage to her waist, smoothing the form-fitting silk.

Brynne’s lips parted, her whole body yearning for him. If he were to ask her again, she’d say yes. She’d say yes to anything that allowed her to be with him morning, noon, and night. She might regret it later, but at the moment she was having a hard time giving a damn.

With a deep breath and more willpower than she’d ever had to exert in her life, Brynne took a step back. Richard let his hands fall, watching her as she retreated to her vanity table. When she picked up her heavy silver brush and attacked her hair, he turned and gathered his own clothing, dressing hastily while she wrestled her thick mop into some semblance of a simple but proper bun at the nape of her neck. The process might have gone smoother if she hadn’t kept getting glimpses of Richard in her mirror. It seemed a shame to cover such a beautiful body with clothing…

Brynne pushed aside the tumultuous thoughts. First things first. Even more troublesome than Beth leaving was Taggart’s disappearance.

“Why do you think Taggart left?” Brynne asked, desperate to both break the silence and to erase the images in her mind.

“I’ve been running over a few possibilities, and none of them are good.”

“Such as?”

“Well, we’ll need to ask the staff if there is anything missing. If there’s not, that would rule out thievery.”

“I can’t see him stealing from me. He was Jake’s friend.”

“Yes, which makes it all the more strange that he would disappear without a word.”

“Do you think it has something to do with our little excursion the other night?”

Richard frowned. “Considering how willingly helpful he was, I think not.”

A steady throbbing took up residence at Brynne’s temples and she closed her eyes and massaged her head. Richard gathered her in his arms and kissed her forehead.

“We’ll find out what’s going on, I promise.”

Brynne let him hold her for a moment, wishing she could stay wrapped in his arms forever. But as Cilla would say, wishes were about as useful as a skunk in a flower bed. The thought of her tough-as-nails sister brought a smile to Brynne’s lips and an extra dose of courage to her heart.

“All right,” she said, pulling away from Richard, “let us go find out what is amiss in this crazy household.”

Richard opened the door for her and let her lead the way.

…

Brynne thoroughly questioned each member of the household, trying to find any clue as to why Taggart had left. But Richard’s mind was only half on the mystery of the butler’s disappearance. To be perfectly honest, he didn’t care two wits why the man had left, as long as the reason wasn’t something that could hurt Brynne. What he did care about was why the stubborn woman was refusing to marry him. Had the last four days meant nothing to her? He could have sworn that their time together had meant as much to her as it had to him. They hadn’t been merely two people finding pleasure in one another (though there had been plenty of pleasure to be had). They had been two people really and truly making love to one another.

All the tender moments, the murmured declarations of love, the—Richard froze.

He knew he’d told her over and over that he loved her while they’d made love. But had he said it when he’d asked her to marry him?

Oh, for the love of all that was holy. If he hadn’t been standing in a hall full of jittery servants, he’d have turned to the marble column he was leaning on and struck his head against it a few times.

He hadn’t asked her to marry him. He’d told her they were getting married. And he hadn’t even managed to give her a good reason, like because he was so madly in love with her he couldn’t bear being apart from her ever again. Oh no. He’d told her it was so the hellhound society women wouldn’t gossip. Of all the stupid, pig-headed, brainless—

No wonder she’d flat out refused him. It was a miracle she hadn’t tossed him out on his undeserving derriere.

Well. He might not be able to bring back her maid or solve the mystery of the missing butler, but there was one wrong in her life he could right. And he was going to do it immediately.

He marched over to her and interrupted her mid-sentence. “Brynne, I need to have a word with you.”

She looked up at him, her eyes rounding with surprise. “I’m sorry, Richard, can it wait a moment?”

“I’m sorry, I’m afraid this can’t wait.”

He took her by the elbow, ignoring her little squeak of protest, and steered her into the study, closing the door behind them.

“Richard, what on earth—”

He took her face in his hands and kissed her, letting every ounce of love and passion that he felt for her wash over them. When she was trembling in his arms, he pulled away just far enough so he could look into her eyes.

“Brynne Richardson Forrester, I love you more than I will ever be able to adequately express. Until you came into my life, I didn’t even know that it was possible for me to feel so deeply for a woman. I would gladly lay my life down for you. You already own my heart. You and Coraline have brought me more love and contentment than I ever knew was possible. I want you both in my life. I need you in my life. I know I made a terrible botch of it before, and for that I ought to be horse-whipped. I can only beg your forgiveness for my terrible lapse in judgment.

“If you would do me the supreme honor of being my wife, I swear to you I will spend every day of the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

Two fat tears rolled down Brynne’s cheeks as she smiled up at him. His heart thumped at the sight. He’d gladly give everything he owned to keep that smile on her face. He wiped her tears away with his thumbs.

“Will you marry me?”

Brynne nodded. “Yes, Richard. I would be honored to be your wife.”

Richard wrapped his arms about her waist and spun her around, her laughter joining his as she clung to his arms. He set her down and kissed her again.

“Let’s send for Coraline in the morning. I want our family to be together as soon as possible.”

“Oh, Richard. I love you so much.”

He took her hand and led her back out to where the staff still waited. He didn’t care why the damn butler had left. Nothing had been stolen. And truth be told, Richard had never been comfortable with him in Brynne’s household, anyway. Good riddance, as far as Richard was concerned. But Brynne cared, and so he would support her in finding the man if that’s what she wished.

They sent a letter off to Lucy the very next morning, asking her to bring Coraline home.

But before the letter had a chance to reach her, Lucy was on their doorstep. Without Coraline.

The first words out of her mouth had Richard’s heart sinking into his gut.

“Is she here? Do you have Coraline?”

“What do you mean, is she here?” Brynne shrieked. “Where is my baby?”

Lucy’s already pale face went so white her lips were nearly invisible. “I don’t know,” she muttered. “Dear God, I don’t know where she is.”

Chapter Nineteen

Brynne heard Lucy’s voice from a distance, as if there were cotton stuffing her ears. She could see Lucy’s mouth moving, but she couldn’t focus on her sister’s face. Everything seemed muffled, blurry. Richard shouted. Lunged toward her. And then she was looking at the ceiling and Richard bending over her.

“Did I faint?” she asked.

“For a moment. How are you feeling?”

“Get me up.”

Richard pulled her to her feet, keeping his arm about her waist. She didn’t bother stepping away. She needed his support. The thought of her baby missing…blackness licked at the edges of her vision again and she shook it off with a ferocious impatience. Being insensible wouldn’t help find Coraline.

“Let’s go into the study and we can figure out what’s going on,” Richard suggested.

“Shall I bring in some tea?” Mary asked. She didn’t wait for confirmation, but rushed off to the kitchens.

“Tea,” Richard snorted. He led Brynne into the study, deposited her in a chair, and went straight for the brandy decanter. He poured two glasses and handed one to Brynne before knocking back a healthy swallow of his own.

“I’m so sorry, Brynne. I don’t know what happened.” Lucy dropped to the floor at her sister’s side and laid her head on Brynne’s lap, her body wracked with sobs.

“Shhh,” Brynne murmured, smoothing back her hair. “Just tell us. Please.”

Lucy made a heroic effort to pull herself together. She sat next to Brynne, her hands kneading at the folds of her dress.

“It was Finn…Mr. Taggart. He came to fetch us.”

“What?” Ice ran through Brynne’s veins, making every breath she drew fresh agony. Her gaze shot to Richard, whose own eyes were narrowing with anger. The vein at his temple was pulsing and Brynne could see the joint of his jaw popping in and out as he clenched his teeth.

“What do you mean Taggart came to fetch you. I didn’t send him.”

“Oh no, no, no!” Lucy buried her face in her hands, her whole body seeming to shrink in on itself.

“Lucy, tell us exactly what happened,” Richard said, his voice gentle but firmly insistent.

Lucy took a few deep breaths. “Two days ago, he arrived at the farm, said that you’d sent for us and wanted us to come as soon as possible and that he had train tickets for first thing the next morning and would escort us home. I didn’t let her out of my sight. She was by my side until we got on the train. But…” The tears welled in her eyes again and her lower lip trembled.

Brynne could scarcely breathe. What had happened to her sweet baby?

“Lucy,” Richard prompted.

“I was so tired. I’d been up very late the night before. It had been such a long time since I’d seen Finn…Mr. Taggart…and we got to visiting and lost track of time. And the train left so early. Coraline wanted to explore, but I wanted to get settled in. Mr. Taggart offered to show her around the train while I rested. I didn’t see any reason why I shouldn’t trust him. He’d been alone with her before. He’d taken us on excursions. I never dreamed…”

Brynne patted her sister’s hand, but inside she was screaming. Part of her wanted to berate Lucy for being so naïve, so trustingly stupid, so blinded by her infatuation with the butler that she’d willingly put Coraline in danger.

But deep down, Brynne knew none of that was true. Lucy would never have put Coraline in harm’s way. They’d all trusted Taggart. Brynne herself most likely would have done the same thing. It wasn’t Lucy’s fault. It was Taggart’s. And if she ever got her hands on the man again…if anything happened to Coraline…

“Continue, please, Lucy.” Richard hadn’t moved from the spot where he stood near their chairs. His body was so taut with tension Brynne was afraid to touch him. He was too controlled, too calm. And Brynne knew it was all a cover for what seethed under the surface. She could see the rage and fear in his eyes. He’d never looked so dangerous. It almost frightened her.

“I fell asleep,” Lucy said, her voice barely audible. “Not for long, only a few minutes. But by the time I awoke, the train had already left the station. And Coraline and Mr. Taggart weren’t back yet. I raised the alarm immediately. I had them search the entire train and when they were nowhere to be found, I wasn’t sure what I should do. I thought of going back to the station, but then what if they were on the train but had been missed? Or what if they’d gotten on a different train and were on their way home?

I got off at the next stop and wired the station in Maryland, asked them to conduct a search. If they found Coraline and Mr. Taggart, they were to wire ahead to the Boston station. But when I arrived here, their telegram stated that no one had seen them. The later train to Boston won’t arrive for another few hours. They might be on that…but…”

Brynne looked at Richard, a faint hope sparking in her heart. Maybe they’d gotten off to look at the outside of the train and hadn’t been able to re-board. They could have boarded the later train. They could be on their way to Boston at that very moment. Richard’s hooded eyes met Brynne’s briefly and he shook his head slightly.

There was no reason for Taggart to take Coraline off the train unless he planned on abducting her. And if he had intentionally run off with her, the last thing he’d do would be to board a train to Boston. It would be too easy for them to lie in wait at the station and discover them as they disembarked.

“What do we do?” Brynne asked, for the first time in her life feeling utterly helpless.

Richard went over to her and knelt down. He brushed a thumb across her cheek and let his hand trail down to her shoulder. He gave it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll go to the train station, to be certain they aren’t on that train. And then…I think we must go to the police.”

If he’d plunged a knife through her heart, Brynne didn’t think she’d hurt as badly. If Coraline was lost to her forever, she didn’t think she’d be able to go on. Losing Jake had shattered her heart. Losing Coraline…she’d never recover. It would obliterate her soul.

…

They weren’t on the next train. Or the one after that. No telegrams arrived.

Brynne and Richard came back to the house and Brynne slumped on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Richard sat beside her and drew her into his arms.

“What do we do now, Richard? Where is she?”

“We’ll find her. I promise you.”

Brynne looked into his worried eyes and uttered the one word that filled her with despair. “How?”

Richard didn’t answer. He didn’t know how they were going to get Coraline back any more than Brynne did. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I think it’s time we contact the authorities.”

Brynne nodded, though she had no idea how they would be able to find her little girl.

A gentle knock sounded at the door and Mary entered.

“Excuse me, ma’am, but this was just delivered for you.” She held out a small note on the silver platter that Taggart had always used for the mail.

Brynne took it and murmured thanks. The envelope had Mrs. Forrester printed on the front, but no other information. Brynne opened it and cried out. She slapped a hand over her mouth to keep from howling, her body trembling from the effort.

“What is it?” Richard asked, his face paling in alarm.

Brynne upturned the envelope, spilling a small gold locket on a delicate chain into her hand. Her locket, the one Coraline had taken to wearing. Brynne squeezed it tight in her fist and ripped the envelope apart in her haste to remove the note.

Each word printed on the parchment sent a stab of fear and anguish straight through her heart.

Brynne handed Richard the paper. Someone with a heavy hand had meticulously printed out the short note.

WE HAVE YOUR DAUGHTER. CONTACT NO ONE. WAIT FOR INSTRUCTIONS.

That was it. Nothing more. Nothing on where she was, how she was doing, who had her, what they wanted.

It was maddening.

“Mary, who delivered this?” Richard asked.

“No one, sir. The bell at the door rang but when I answered it, there was no one there. Just that note under a rock on the stoop.”

“How long ago?”

“Just this minute, sir.”

Richard jumped up and ran from the room. Brynne followed, waiting at the front door as Richard ran outside and stopped passersby, gesturing to their door as he questioned everyone he could.

But it was to no avail. No one had seen anyone leaving anything on their doorstep. They went back into the house, Brynne’s body sagging in defeat.

“Well. At least we know what’s happened,” Richard said, his voice dangerously low. “And we can prepare.”

“How?”

“They’ll want to ransom her. If they’d meant to harm her, we’d have never heard from them. If they are telling us to contact no one, they don’t want the authorities involved. They’ll send instructions for where to meet them, and how much they want.”

“But how do we know she’s unharmed? They could be doing anything to her. She could be cold, or hungry, or hurt.”

“She’s no good to them if she’s harmed. They’ll take care of her so they can get their money.”

Lucy, who’d barely said a word since she’d arrived home, finally spoke up. “I don’t think Finn will let any harm come to her.”

Brynne couldn’t contain her emotions any longer. Hearing Lucy defend Taggart after all he’d done was more than she could take. She surged to her feet, rounding on her sister with a fury so strong her head swam.

“Your precious Finn is the one who took her! He’s already harmed her. He’s stolen my baby! How can you think well of him?”

Lucy cringed, drawing in upon herself as if making herself smaller would shield her from her sister’s wrath. “I know he’s responsible for this. And I don’t know why he did it. But I know him, Brynne. I know him. He won’t hurt her.”

Brynne’s chest burned with the rage that was beginning to eat her alive. She prayed with every ounce of her being that Coraline was returned to her. Because she was very much afraid that if she wasn’t, if her baby was lost to her forever or was in some way irreparably harmed, she’d never be able to forgive her sister. She knew how unfair that thought was, but she couldn’t keep it from festering in her mind.

She couldn’t bring herself to respond to Lucy’s remarks. She didn’t trust what would come out and some still sane part of her didn’t want to say anything that she’d later regret.

Richard, heaven bless him, came to her rescue. He stood and wrapped his arms about her. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and buried her face against his chest, breathing in the scent of him. He was her haven, the only place she felt safe.

He held her tight and kissed the top of her head. “All we can do is wait and see what they want. I don’t think we’ll have to wait long. The longer they drag this out, the more danger they are in of being caught. They’ll want this to be over as much as we do.”

Brynne took a deep breath and prayed that he was right.

Chapter Twenty

Richard was thankful when his words proved to be true. Within a few hours, another note was delivered. This time, they were waiting. Richard had positioned Mary by the back entrance with instructions to watch the windows for anyone approaching the door. And he took up position at the front door. They’d get some answers this time.

When a young boy ran up the steps, a note clutched in his hand, Richard had the door open, and had yanked the poor boy inside before he could knock.

Richard snatched the note out of his hand. “Who gave this to you?”

The boy twisted in Richard’s grip. “It weren’t no one, just a man. He paid me real good to bring it here, said to leave it under the rock on the doorstep.”

“What did he look like? Where did he find you?”

“Hey, leave off,” he said, pushing at Richard’s hand. “Let me go if you want me to talk.”

Richard frowned but let the boy go, taking care to stand in front of the door so the mongrel couldn’t escape.

“Talk.”

Now that the boy was no longer being threatened with bodily harm, a bit of the fear had drained away. He crossed his arms with a cocky grin. “He gave me a whole dollar to deliver that note and to say nothing about it. Doesn’t seem right to break that agreement.”

Richard took a deep breath, trying to calm the fury threatening to break through. The kid was filthy, scrawny, and was obviously used to surviving on his wits and whatever he could con out of people. The child had no way of knowing what was going on and would probably be rightly more interested in his own survival if he did.

“I’ll triple whatever he paid you.”

The boy’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. “It was in Haymarket Square. I don’t know who the man was, he seemed a regular sort of fellow. Not dressed real fancy, but not like the likes of me either.”

“Did he have any marks on his face? Anything about him that was out of the ordinary?”

“No, sir. Nothing different about him at all. Couldn’t pick him out of a crowd to save my life, I reckon.”

Not Taggart then. His face would definitely have been one the boy remembered. Which meant that Taggart wasn’t working alone. And that made things considerably more complicated.

Richard dug three dollar coins out of his pocket and dropped them into the boy’s eager hand. And then he added a ten dollar bill. “If you see the man again, follow him. Don’t let yourself be seen. Don’t put yourself in any danger. But I want to know as much about him as you can find out.”

“Yes, sir!”

Richard opened the door and the boy scampered off with an ear-splitting grin. Brynne came out from the parlor.

“We’ll probably never see him again.”

Richard shrugged. “If not, at least the boy will be able to keep himself fed for a while. But I have a feeling he’ll do his best to find out as much as he can. After all, if we were willing to pay that much up front, he’ll be pretty sure we’ll pay even more to get the information out of him.”

A ghost of a smile touched Brynne’s lips, but quickly faded. Richard went to her, his heart aching at the sight of her haunted, pale face. He gave her a quick kiss and then opened the note which was once again addressed to Mrs. Forrester.

COME TO THE COMMON AT MIDNIGHT. $10,000.00. TELL NO ONE. COME ALONE.

Brynne leaned against him.

“Do you have that much?”

Brynne nodded.

“If it will be a hardship, I have some—”

“It won’t be a hardship.”

Richard’s brows furrowed. It was an enormous amount of money. He’d known, of course, that Brynne was wealthy. But still, that amount would leave a sizable dent in even his substantial fortune.

“Well, at least I know you aren’t marrying me for my money, since you don’t appear to realize how much I’ve got,” she said, her eyes twinkling with genuine amusement for the first time since this whole nightmare had begun.

He stroked her cheek and pulled her in close. “I wouldn’t care if you were a penniless beggar on the street.” He kissed her, exploring her mouth until she began making the little noises that he loved so much. His heart lightened a bit at the little moan of protest she made when he released her.

“We’d better get to the bank. It might take a while to withdraw such an amount.”

“No need,” Brynne said, pulling out of his arms. She led him to the library and closed the door behind them, taking care to draw the bolt. Then she went round to each window and drew the drapes. The room would have been plunged into darkness save for the twin windows set high in the walls that overlooked the back gardens.

“Follow me.”

Richard obeyed, wondering where she was taking him. Surely she couldn’t have that much money hidden in the house. She stopped in front of one of the bookcases and pushed on it. The case swung open to reveal a small room. Inside, the room curved into a small alcove, the mahogany walls carved floor to ceiling with an incredible relief of a large tree, its branches encircling the room, each leaf and twig exquisitely carved into the wood. The room was empty save for a bench on either side of the carved trunk of the tree.

“It’s stunning,” Richard said, at a loss for any other words to describe the incredible room.

“It is. There were several reasons I choose this home over one in the more fashionable neighborhoods,” she said. “One of those reasons was because the previous owner was a bit on the eccentric and secretive side. He made several alterations that were appealing to me. This is one of them.”

She went to the relief, to where a large owl had been carved sitting in a recessed hollow in the middle of the trunk. Brynne grasped the left edge of the branch forming the carved hollow and pulled it toward her. It swung open to reveal a small safe.

“Good gracious,” Richard said before he could stop himself. He’d seen hidden safes before, naturally. In fact, he had one himself in his own home. But he’d never seen one so elaborate.

Brynne twisted the dial as she entered the combination and pulled open the safe to reveal a small stack of documents, a few items of jewelry, and more money than Richard had ever seen in one place before. Brynne removed what she needed, leaving behind only one small stack, and closed the safe, sealing it once again behind its façade.

“Why do you keep so much in your home?” Richard asked. He kept a decent amount of money in his house as well. It was convenient to keep a certain amount on hand so one didn’t have to run to the bank whenever a bit of currency was needed. But she had a fortune hidden behind that tree.

“I find it more convenient than having to make a withdrawal or having someone from the bank bring me funds whenever I need them. And I’m not used to relying on a bank to control my money. I don’t trust them much,” she said with a shrug.

Having met some of the bankers in town, he couldn’t say that he faulted her. Especially after the panic from the year before. He followed her out of the alcove and pulled the door closed behind them. Brynne went to a small writing desk in the corner of the room and grabbed a book that rested there. She opened it, revealing its false center; a clever way to keep trinkets and odds and ends nearby without cluttering up one’s space. She upended it, sprinkling its contents across the desk, and layered the money inside.

“Now, we wait,” she said, her forlorn tone making Richard’s heart clench.

“We’ll get her back, my love,” he promised. “And then we’ll make Taggart and his associates pay.”

For the first time since Coraline had gone missing, a genuine smile crossed Brynne’s lips.

…

Waiting for midnight to approach was the hardest thing Brynne had ever had to do. She sat in the study, watching the second hand of the clock slowly tick by. She knew watching it only made the time go by more slowly…

Tick.

But she couldn’t make herself do anything else.

Tick.

Richard and Lucy had left at ten o’clock to take up their positions. Despite what the note said, they had no intention of Brynne arriving alone. They would make certain that her back was covered. And if at all possible, they would make certain the kidnappers didn’t get away with what they had done.

Tick.

The money didn’t matter to Brynne. They could have it.

Tick.

But they had taken her daughter. That she would never forgive.

Tick.

For that she would follow them to the ends of the earth.

Tick.

The clock struck the half hour. Eleven thirty.

Brynne stood, gathered her book full of money, and strode to the front door. The weight of the gun strapped to her ankle, the one in the pocket of her skirt, and the knife in its sheath at the small of her back gave her confidence as she strode toward the door. She wished she could face her enemies unencumbered by skirts. She needed her limbs free so she could fight. But Richard convinced her that their best bet at the element of surprise was if all appeared as normal as possible. Showing up dressed like a male gunslinger might scare off their prey.

And alerting any innocent passersby that something was going on wouldn’t be wise either. The last thing they wanted was for anyone to find them interesting enough to pay attention to what they were doing. Brynne cared less than a two-headed pig about what people might think of her clothing choice. But Richard had a point on the rest. Alerting Taggart and his cronies that she was there to fight wasn’t the smart thing to do.

The one concession she’d made to her own comfort was the absence of a corset. The ridiculous skirts were one thing; at least the hoops kept them from tangling around her legs. If she couldn’t give all her limbs freedom, she’d at least ensure that she could breathe.

She did, however, don the leather gloves she’d worn on the ranch. They slipped onto her fingers, the familiar leather molding to her skin. They still smelled of California; a tang of horse and the outdoors that hit Brynne with a wave of homesickness so strong she had to hold her breath for a moment. They never should have left. If they had stayed where they belonged, Coraline wouldn’t be in danger now. But then, Brynne would have never met Richard. The thought of never having known him was almost physically painful. But even that she’d gladly suffer if it meant her baby would be safe.

Brynne nodded her thanks to Mary and turned to leave.

“I’ll have the little one’s bed all ready for her when you bring her home,” Mary said.

Brynne choked back the tears that burned at the back of her throat. “Thank you, Mary.” The girl’s kindness and belief gave Brynne strength. She marched into the night to rescue her daughter.

Chapter Twenty-one

Brynne arrived at the deserted gazebo a few minutes early. There was always something going on in the park, but at this end, so late at night, there was no one about. A perfect place for a ransom exchange.

Brynne’s eyes strained to see in the darkness. She couldn’t make out much. The moon was full, but the abundance of shrubbery and the clouds that kept passing across its surface created pockets of inky blackness that no amount of staring would penetrate. All she could hear were the distant sounds of other park-goers enjoying their festivities, an occasional hoot of an owl. She knew Richard and Lucy were hidden in the darkness beyond the gazebo. She longed for some sign from them but knew that any sound they made would betray their presence and position.

So she waited. It was almost time. A few minutes more.

A rustling sound drew her attention to her left.

Finnegan Taggart stepped out from a cluster of large bushes. He didn’t come out all the way, but kept his back nearly touching the shrubs. Brynne didn’t wait for instructions. If he wasn’t going to come to her, she sure as hell would go to him.

He met her gaze, not flinching or wavering as she stalked toward him. He didn’t seem to fear her at all. There were no weapons in his hands. Good.

Brynne marched up to him and swung, her fist connecting with his face before he had a chance to blink. She hit him hard enough to make his head snap back, hard enough to make her hand throb in protest. Perhaps not the wisest course of action. It was her gun hand. But striking the son of a bitch had been immensely satisfying.

Taggart massaged his jaw, but he didn’t retaliate. He didn’t even look angry. Just resigned.

Enough of this!

“Where is my daughter?”

“Where is the money?”

Brynne sneered, letting every ounce of the contempt and disgust she felt for him show on her face. “I have it. But I’m not handing it over until I see my daughter.”

Taggart nodded as if he’d expected that and turned his head toward the bushes. He whistled three sharp notes and then, before Brynne could register his intent to move, he stood toe to toe with her. He grasped her arm to pull her nearer and whispered in her ear.

“I had no choice in this. I did the best I could for you and your family, I swear it.”

Brynne glared, shoving his hand off her arm. “By stealing my daughter?”

“It would have gone far worse for her if I hadn’t been the one to do it,” he whispered urgently.

A twig snapped and the bushes parted to reveal a scruffy man with a sneer on his face and an evil gleam in his eyes. His hand gripped Coraline’s shoulder tightly.

“Momma!” Coraline tried to run to her, but the man hauled her back.

It took every ounce of self-control she had and some that God must have lent her, to keep from running to her daughter. She had to keep her wits about her, had to do this right.

“Hi, chickabiddy. It’ll be okay. Momma needs to talk to these men for a minute.”

“The money,” Taggart said.

Brynne went back to the gazebo and retrieved the book from where she’d stowed it under a bench. She shoved it into Taggart’s waiting hands, her breath coming in short, seething bursts. She tried to calm down, slow her heart rate. If she didn’t gain some control, these blackguards would get the best of her.

Taggart flipped open the book and quickly flipped through the stacked bills. “It’s all here,” he said to his associate.

“Good. Then I guess we’ll be going.” He backed into the bushes, and took Coraline with him.

“My daughter,” Brynne said, fear squeezing her heart in a vice-like grip that nearly brought her to her knees.

Taggart turned to the thin man with a confused frown. “She paid the ransom. Let the little girl go.”

“Well, mate, we have a small problem with that. They’ve both seen our faces now. Can’t have them running off to the pigs now, can we? Unless you want to spend your golden years in a cell.”

“Let her go, Haddon. I didn’t sign up for kidnapping or murdering women and children.”

“You signed up to do whatever was needed. But if you object, an extra body is no never mind to me.”

Brynne had had enough. “Well, you’ll excuse me if I have a slight objection.”

She pulled the gun from her skirt pocket, but the material slowed her down. By the time she had her gun pointed at the thin man’s head, his was pointed at Coraline’s.

Brynne froze, the sight of a gun pressed to her baby’s head paralyzing her.

Taggart drew his gun but didn’t seem able to decide where to point it. Instead, he aimed it somewhere near the middle, his eyes darting between the two of them.

Coraline whimpered in fear. The sound pierced Brynne’s heart.

The hammer of a third gun cocked and Brynne’s gaze quickly darted to the side, and registered another of Taggart’s associates with his gun aimed at her head. The tall, thin man sneered at her. She ignored him and returned her attention to Coraline and Haddon.

“Drop it nice and easy, missus,” Haddon instructed.

Brynne slowly bent down, lowering her gun to the ground. She laid it down gently and raised her hands to show they were empty. A slight movement over Haddon’s shoulder caught her attention and she glanced into the darkness, taking her time standing back up. Richard stood with his gun trained on the thin man. His eyes darted to the side and Brynne’s followed. Lucy materialized from behind a tree, her gun pointed at Taggart.

Unfortunately, the thin man caught sight of Lucy as well.

“She’s not alone!” He aimed at Lucy and fired.

All hell broke loose.

When his associate fired at Lucy, Haddon swung his gun around to Lucy as well. Brynne reached for the knife at the small of her back. The second his attention was off her, she mouthed “Down!” to Coraline.

Coraline, her eyes wide in her pale little face, twisted in Haddon’s grip and went limp.

Startled when his captive suddenly dropped from his grasp, Haddon swung his gun back toward Brynne. Her arm shot forward and she loosed her knife. With a sickening thunk, it buried itself deep in his chest. His mouth slowly dropped open, his eyes staring at the blade sticking from his ribcage. Then he crumpled to the ground, his gun falling uselessly from his hand.

A gunshot went off over Brynne’s head as she scrambled forward to gather her daughter. Another shot. Coraline wrapped her arms around her mother’s neck and Brynne hunched over her, putting her body between her daughter and any harm that might come their way. Two more shots fired. Lucy shouted, her voice the only sound in the sudden silence.

Brynne kept Coraline’s head tucked in her neck so she couldn’t see the carnage that lay around them and crept to Richard’s side. The thin man lay bleeding and silent on the ground. Richard stood over him, kicking his gun from his hand.

The hand that held his own gun trembled and his haunted eyes stared down at the man he’d killed. The first man he’d ever killed, Brynne was willing to bet. She reached over and took the gun from his hand. He released it, turning to her with an air of shock.

“Thank you for protecting us,” Brynne whispered.

Richard’s face cleared, his shock and horror replaced with such an expression of overwhelming love that Brynne’s knees nearly buckled. He pulled them into his arms, kissed Brynne on the lips and Coraline on the forehead, and held them both tight. Coraline loosed her grip on Brynne and reached up to Richard. He took her in his arms and gently kissed her cheek.

Coraline wrapped her arms about his neck. “I knew you and Momma would come,” she said, her voice barely audible.

Richard cleared his throat, which, Brynne had no doubt, was likely as clogged with unshed tears as her own. “There was never any doubt,” he answered, hugging her tight.

Brynne searched for Lucy and saw her a short distance away, her gun still trained on Taggart. Taggart had his hands up, more as if he were fending off the torrent of words coming from Lucy than as if he was surrendering to her.

“Stay here,” Brynne said, grabbing Richard’s gun.

“Brynne…”

“I’ll be fine. Besides, you need to start dealing with them,” she said, jerking her head over her shoulder. Lamplights flashed in the distance and the murmur of voices floated to them. The gunshots must have been heard by someone who had naturally alerted the authorities. They would very shortly have a lot of explaining to do.

Brynne hurried toward Taggart and Lucy, who were locked in a passionate argument. Lucy glanced over, saw Brynne coming their way, and turned back to Taggart. A few more furious words, a lingering, regretful look on Taggart’s part, and he lunged away, sprinting off as fast as his feet would carry him.

Brynne ran the rest of the distance to her sister. “Why did you let him go?”

“It wasn’t his fault, Brynne.”

Red-hot fury burned through Brynne, inflaming her cheeks with a literal heat she could feel pouring from her. “He took my daughter! He put us all through hell!”

Tears streamed down Lucy’s face. “It would have been worse if he hadn’t.”

Brynne made a Herculean effort to contain her rage, but the events of the night had left her with little patience for Lucy’s infatuated ramblings.

Lucy pressed on before Brynne could get another word out. “His associates were going to take her, ransom her to regain some of the losses they suffered at your hands. Finn couldn’t talk them out of it. The best he could do was be the one who took her.”

Brynne sputtered, so furious she couldn’t force a coherent sentence past her lips.

“Think about it, Brynne. Please. Just stop and think. Coraline knew Finn. She trusted him.”

“Yes, which made it all the more easy for him to take her. He took her from me, Lucy! You aren’t her mother so maybe you’ll never understand the hell I’ve been in since the day she disappeared.”

“I love her, too!”

“Then how can you defend him to me?”

“Because I know him. He never would have hurt her. He did what he did to protect her.”

“That bastard—”

“Think about it. Was she harmed at all? Does she even seem frightened? How would she have been if one of the others had taken her? With him, she was safe. He took care of her, made sure she was well looked after. Would that have happened if one of the other men had taken her?”

Lucy had a point, but Brynne was not willing to forgive Taggart. “He could have come to us, told us what they were planning. Instead, he went through with their plan. What if something had gone wrong?”

“He didn’t have a choice. They already questioned his loyalty. He didn’t even know of the plot until it was already underway. That’s why he left so abruptly. He needed to intercept them, be sure that he was the one who took Coraline. So he could keep her safe.”

Lamplight flooded the area and shouts from the police filled the night. Brynne slipped her gun into her pocket. “We’ll talk of this later.”

She turned her back on Lucy and went to join Richard, who was trying to explain what he was doing in the middle of the night surrounded by dead bodies. The fact that he was a very respected member of society who was accompanied by two women, had a child clinging to his neck, and pointed out the false book full of money tucked firmly into the waistband of one of the deceased went a ways in his favor. When Brynne assured them she could produce the ransom notes, the officers agreed to accompany them back to the house for more questioning.

Brynne took Coraline back into her arms and sighed a deep breath of relief. She had her baby back again. The man she loved was by her side. Nothing else in the world mattered.

Chapter Twenty-two

Brynne blinked in surprise at the visitors who stood at her front door.

“Well, are you going to let us in?” Cilla asked.

Brynne threw herself at her sister with a happy shriek that brought half the household running. The next several moments were filled with hugs and kisses and exclamations of surprise and delight as Brynne, Cilla, and Lucy were reunited. Cilla’s husband Leo and Richard stood awkwardly nodding at one another and Coraline was on the floor already playing with her new cousin who toddled around the foyer, looking with interest at his surroundings.

Once the bedlam of their reunion had died down a bit, Brynne ushered them all into the parlor.

“What are you doing here?” Brynne asked.

“You didn’t think I’d miss my big sister’s wedding, did you?”

Brynne hugged her again. “I’m so glad you came. I never dreamed you’d be able to.”

“Well, I also heard that Blood Blade had decided to visit the east coast. I reckoned maybe I’d better scurry my tail up here and find out what was going on.”

Brynne frowned, wondering how Cilla could have known about her latest banditry activities.

“Lucy may have mentioned a nightly excursion or two in her letters,” Cilla said, leveling Brynne with a pointed look. “Why didn’t you send word you were in trouble?”

Brynne sighed. Her younger sister still thought Brynne needed looking after. But that was one of the things Brynne loved about her. Aggravating as it might be. “Because there was nothing you could do to help, and I had the situation under control.”

“Really?” Cilla pulled out a newspaper clipping.

Brynne unfolded it, revealing the article that had been written after Coraline’s kidnapping. “It was taken care of. Coraline is safe and sound.”

Cilla’s glance darted to Lucy. “And the elusive Mr. Taggart?”

Lucy’s head jerked up, all joy from her sister’s arrival fading. “I haven’t heard from him.”

Lucy stood and gathered Cilla’s little boy in her arms and took Coraline by the hand. “I think I’ll take the children to the kitchen for a treat.”

Brynne watched them leave, her frown of concern lightening when she gazed at Cilla’s son.

“He’s precious, Cilla.”

Cilla broke out in a proud grin. “Isn’t he? You don’t mind that we named him Jacob, do you?”

Brynne reached over and squeezed her sister’s hand. “Not at all. I think Jake would be happy to have his nephew bear his name.”

“Good. Well, now. Tell me what’s really been going on.”

Brynne filled her in on the past several months, from her decision to bring Blood Blade out of retirement to the showdown at the park the night they got Coraline back. Cilla listened, nodded, and cut right to the heart of the matter.

“Lucy is still pining for Taggart then?”

Brynne sighed. “Yes. It’s been more than a month with no word, no sighting of him. I think she still holds out hope that he’ll come back.”

“And how would you feel about that?”

“I don’t know. If you’d asked me before all this…I…don’t know.”

Cilla nodded. “Do you believe his version of the events?”

“Again, I don’t know. It does make sense. And if I’d had to choose between Coraline being in his care or with one of the others…” Brynne shuddered. “Coraline came to no harm. She doesn’t have nightmares, doesn’t seem overly affected by the incident. So he must have shielded her well. For that, I am grateful. But, suffering through those days that she was missing…” Brynne sighed again.

“Well,” Cilla said, leaning forward to grab her sister’s hand. “Nothing we can do about any of that now. Let’s focus on something a little more fun. We’ve got a wedding to prepare for.”

Brynne flushed and glanced at Richard. He and Leo appeared to be getting on well, a fact for which Brynne was thankful considering the hullabaloo that had occurred when Richard had discovered Leo had been married to Brynne, even if it was in name only.

“At least we don’t have to worry about this groom bolting,” Cilla said with a wink.

That startled a laugh out of Brynne. “I hope not.”

Richard met her gaze across the room. His smile warmed her inside and out. This time, her wedding would be real. And legal. She’d be walking down the aisle to stand beside the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. A small part of her still mourned for Jake, would always mourn for him. But Jake was her past. Richard was her present, her future.

And she couldn’t wait to begin her life with him.

Epilogue

“Pardon me, Mrs. Oliver, but I found this in Miss Lucy’s room,” Mary said, holding out a folded note to Brynne.

“Thank you, Mary.”

Brynne took the note and sat down, closing her eyes against a sudden wave of nausea. The bouts of illness with this baby were much worse than she’d had with Coraline and Brynne prayed it would abate soon. Hopefully, this little one wouldn’t make as early an appearance as Coraline had or eyebrows would be set to waggling yet again. They’d only just found out for sure, but she’d had a good suspicion that she’d been expecting when she and Richard had said their vows a few weeks back.

Brynne read the paper she held in suddenly shaking hands. The blood rushed from her head so quickly she felt faint.

Richard caught sight of her from across the room and hurried to her side.

“What is it? What’s wrong? Is it the child?”

Brynne’s hand strayed to her belly, caressed the small bump that hadn’t yet begun to show. “No, I’m fine. The baby is fine. It’s…it’s Lucy.”

She handed him the letter. His frown deepened as he read. Cilla joined them.

“What’s wrong?”

Brynne slumped into the nearest chair. “Lucy is gone.”

“What?”

“She’s gone. She’s gone off to find that betraying son of a bi—”

“I thought she’d gotten over all that nonsense,” Cilla said, taking the letter from Richard.

“Apparently not,” Brynne said.

“Well.” Cilla turned to Leo who’d come up behind her to read the letter over her shoulder. “Looks like our visit has been extended.”

Brynne’s eyebrows shot up, but she nodded, grim determination filling her. “The children can stay with Cora. She’ll be thrilled to get more time with her grandson and she’s always asking for more time with Coraline.”

Cilla shook her head. “Brynne, Leo and I can handle this. You shouldn’t be traveling in your condition.”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed and Leo chuckled. Richard looked at him, his own eyebrow raised in question.

“A bit familiar is all. Better stand back and let them work it out.”

Brynne ignored them, though she took a second to shoot them both a glare before she turned her attention back to her sister. “We are not going through this again, Cilla. I am perfectly capable of searching for Lucy and am doubly responsible for finding her. It’s my fault. I’m the one that brought that man into our lives. If anyone is going to find them and put a stop to his meddling with our family, it’s going to be me.”

“You have to consider your child…”

“I did much more than travel when I was much farther along with Coraline and we were both perfectly fine.”

“You were not, you almost died!”

“That wasn’t because of my activities, and you know it. Besides, this is different. The conditions won’t be nearly so bad—”

“You can’t know that. They might be worse!”

Brynne headed for the door, Cilla following along behind.

“You always look for the worst in every situation,” Brynne said, her voice getting farther away as she started up the stairs.

“I do not. I’m realistic enough to….” Their voices faded away.

Richard looked at Leo. “Should I be concerned?”

Leo laughed, not trying to hide his amusement now that the women were no longer within ear shot. “No. They’ll get it sorted out. They always do.”

“Well then. Seems like I have a few arrangements to make.”

Leo nodded and clapped him on the shoulder. “Looks like the Blood Blade Sisters are riding again.”

Acknowledgments

My deepest thanks to all those who have helped get this book out in the world. It truly takes a village and I have been blessed with an amazing support system.

To my husband and kids—Tom, Connor, Ryanna, Kyelie, and Matt—I love you all more than anything in the world. Your love and support mean more than I can say. To my family, the best cheerleading team in the world—Mike and Laurie Marquis, Ryan, Jeanette, Shaun, and Brandon Marquis, and to Mindy, Gail, and Michelle—my forever love. Thank you so much for everything.

To my amazing editors, Erin Molta and Gwen Hayes— thank you so much for all you do. You take so much of the stress out of this process. Thank you for pushing me to dig deeper and write better. It’s so easy to get caught up in the deadlines and forget the craft, so thank you for keeping me on course and helping me write the best story I can. My books and I are in excellent hands! To my awesome publicist Renee Rosen, and to the rest of the incredible Entangled team—thank you! I so appreciate all the hard work you do.

To my writer buds—Toni Kerr, Kristal Shaff, Lisa Amowitz, Cole Gibsen, Christine Fonseca, Bethany Wiggins, Bonny Anderson, Robyn DeHart—for your support, friendship, and encouragement. Surviving without you would be near impossible. Thank you a million times over.

She fights for what she wants, and she wants Finn.

Not your typical Southern belle...

Lucy Richardson’s bandit sisters may have taught her to sling a gun and pick a stubborn lock, but nothing prepared her for the agony of her first heartbreak. Her sisters taught her to fight like hell for what she wants... and she wants Finn.

Not your proper Southern gentleman...

Finn Taggart is bad news. His dark and tortured past always catches up to him, and Lucy deserves better than to be tainted by his touch. He couldn’t have her years ago, and he can’t have her now, no matter how enticing she is. If only he can convince her of that before the danger that follows him brings them both down.

Not your classic love story...

Danger doesn’t exactly scare a girl like Lucy, and she knows how to use all kinds of weapons... including her feminine wiles. Finn doesn’t stand a chance. And if they need backup... the Blood Blade Sisters are never far away...

A Bandit’s Betrayed Heart
a Blood Blade Sisters Novel

Michelle McLean

To TCR - thank you for putting the smiles on my face. Love you always.

Chapter One

Seven years earlier

Lucy Richardson crept down the hallway, pausing every few feet to make sure the house remained still and quiet. If she were caught, there’d be hell to pay. She came to a stop in front of Finn’s door, took one last look over her shoulder, and turned the knob. She held her breath until the door clicked open. He hadn’t locked it. Lucy smiled and eased into his room.

She couldn’t see anything except the faint glow of moonlight filtering in through a crack in the curtains. But it was enough to see Finn’s form in the bed. She couldn’t hear him breathing though and couldn’t tell if he was asleep or awake.

“What are you doing, Lucy?”

Awake. She reached behind her and locked the door.

“Lucy,” he said, his voice low, warning. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know,” she whispered.

There were a million reasons she shouldn’t be there. She and Finn weren’t married and were not even courting. They couldn’t get married, not without the biggest brouhaha Boston society had seen in a decade. Finn was not only her sister’s butler, he had a murky past and a face covered in Mohave tribal tattoos. Lucy, on the other hand, was now one of the richest women in Boston thanks to a little gold mine on her family’s ranch in California. For Finn and Lucy to marry would go against everything society dictated, but for them to be together without marriage was unthinkable.

But Lucy didn’t care. She loved Finn. The very thought of him made her heart flutter and her breath catch. A brush of his hand made her skin tingle. And his kisses…well, his kisses obviously had the power to make her go stark, raving mad since she was creeping into the servants’ quarters in the middle of the night for just one more taste of him.

“This is a bad idea, Lucy.”

“I don’t care,” she said, climbing on the bed.

Despite his words, he wasn’t making any move to evict her from his room. She reached out a tentative hand and found him. Her fingers tightened in the nightshirt straining over his chest. She pulled herself closer to him, let her hand trail up his chest to where the shirt opened. When her fingers brushed across his bare skin, he sucked in a breath.

She inched closer still, drew her hand up his neck to slip into his hair. With a groan, he wrapped her in his arms, crushing her to him as his lips descended. Lucy plastered herself to him, reveling in the hard planes of his body pressing against her soft curves. They’d stolen many a kiss in darkened corners, but this was the first time there had been so little clothing between them. The thin material of her nightdress and his shirt felt like nothing at all, but it was still too much. She longed for the heat of his bare skin against hers.

She reached down to grasp his hip, disappointed to find that he still wore his breeches. He lifted his head when she paused, and she could see the white flash of his teeth in the moonlight.

“I thought you might wander into my room tonight.”

“Well, don’t you think you are a little overdressed for the occasion?”

He leaned down and kissed her again, letting his lips trail across her cheek to the sensitive skin under her ear.

“No. I think it’s going to be the only hope I’ve got to keep from ravishing you.”

“If I didn’t want to be ravished, I wouldn’t have come.”

Finn chuckled. “Ah, darlin’. I’d love to oblige you.”

Lucy made a little purring noise in the back of her throat that surprised even her and arched into him. Finn hissed and rolled her beneath him, his lips and hands creating a torrent of sensation that was almost too intense to bear.

“Finn,” she whimpered, her hand straying down to the waistband of his pants.

“No,” he said, catching her hand and entwining his fingers with hers.

“Why?” she whispered.

Finn dragged in a ragged breath and leaned his forehead against hers. With his body still pressed to hers, she could tell he was as affected as she was. So why was he hesitating?

“Lucy, you know things in my life are…complicated right now. There are things in my past that need to be dealt with before I can have any kind of a future with you.”

“I know that, but…”

“No,” he said again, leaning down to kiss her. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

Lucy grinned shyly. He’d told her he loved her, on more than one occasion, but her heart soared every time she heard those words on his lips.

“Finn…”

He brought their entwined hands up to his lips and kissed each of her fingers. “I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life showing you exactly how much I love you. But until I get out of this mess that I’m in, I’m not free to build a life with you. I just need a little time.”

“And if your grand plan to put your past to rights doesn’t work out, what then?”

Finn sighed. “That’s exactly the reason I’m not going to take advantage of you now.”

“You aren’t taking advantage of me, Finn.”

Finn just shook his head. “I don’t want to do something we can’t undo. I won’t risk leaving you alone with the consequences of our actions. I love you too much to drag you into my world. Someday, hopefully soon, I’ll be free to live with you in peace. When that day comes, it will be the happiest I’ve ever known. But until then, we need to be careful.”

Lucy ducked her head against his chest, shifting restlessly against him. “I know you think you’re protecting me. But I don’t care. I want you. So much it hurts to breathe.”

“I know, love,” he said, kissing her gently. “I know.”

Lucy thought he’d pull back but to her delight, he didn’t. His mouth explored hers until her head swam. His hand slipped inside her nightgown and Lucy froze.

“I thought you said…”

“I did. And I meant it. But that doesn’t mean we can’t do other things.”

Before Lucy could ask what other things he meant, Finn set about showing her.

…

Finn kissed Lucy good-bye, letting his lips linger against hers. Sending her away was a near physical pain, but she couldn’t be found in his room. From the moment he’d set eyes on her, all he’d wanted to do was protect her, from everything and everyone. Even himself, if necessary. Lucy was everything that was sweet and good in his life, though she had a backbone of steel and enough gumption to rule the world if she wished. She already ruled him. But she also had an unhealthy appetite for danger and a penchant for finding it.

Finn smiled and shook his head. When he’d come to Boston, he’d never expected anything like her. Never thought a woman could affect him so. Never thought he could love anyone so deeply.

He shied away from the thought. Finn had only ever loved one woman in his life before meeting Lucy. Rachel. And because of him…no, he refused to think of it. He didn’t deserve happiness. Didn’t deserve to love someone like Lucy, let alone have her love him in return.

But if the fates were merciful, perhaps he could prove himself worthy one day.

He watched her until she disappeared around the corner, the faint light from the early morning sun striking her hair and making the copper-colored tresses shimmer like a new penny. Finn closed his door and sank down on the edge of his bed, rubbing his burning eyes. The night he’d just spent loving Lucy had been the best night of his life. One he’d treasure always. No matter what happened. But it was going to make getting through the coming day extremely hard. For a variety of reasons. Finn shifted uncomfortably on the bed and finally flopped back onto his pillows.

What he wouldn’t give to be able to march up to Lucy’s sister and declare his love. Brynne wasn’t Boston born and bred. She’d started life a poor rancher’s daughter. He didn’t think she’d be prejudiced against them.

But Brynne was the least of his worries. His employer—his other employer—could never find out about Lucy. If he knew Finn loved her, she’d just become collateral that could be used against him. Finn wouldn’t put her in danger that way. He had to protect her at all costs. She couldn’t end up like…like…Rachel.

The image of the last time he’d seen his first love flashed in his mind. Her broken and bloodied body tangled at his feet.

His heart clenched, and he sucked in a deep breath, trying to breathe through the pain that always struck him at Rachel’s memory. The thought of anything happening to Lucy was unbearable. He’d sacrifice everything to keep her safe. Which meant, for the moment, that he needed to stay away from her. He didn’t like the plan that was brewing between his partners, and until he found a way to get out from under his boss’s thumb, Lucy’s association with him put her in danger.

Finn was determined to find a way. A way to get free. And then he and Lucy could be together.

If he couldn’t… Finn swallowed, the thought of leaving and never seeing Lucy’s smiling face or looking into her deep brown eyes again striking him like a knife to the heart. There was no help for it though. If he couldn’t escape the servitude he was under, he’d have to disappear. There was no other way to ensure Lucy’s safety. His boss wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her in order to get what he wanted from Finn. And Finn would die before he’d let that happen.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t come to that. Because leaving her would be a fate worse than death.

Chapter Two

Seven years later

Lucy dipped her needle into her patient’s hand one more time, slowly drawing the thread through until the last bit of the wound had closed. She deftly tied the thread off and snipped it with her little scissors. The man sitting before her let out a breath.

“All done,” Lucy said, patting his hand. “Let me just wrap this up, and then you can be on your way.”

“Thank you, miss. That didn’t hardly hurt at all.”

“I told you it wouldn’t be as bad as you feared,” she said with a wink. “I’m even better at stitching than my sister. But don’t you tell her I said so.”

“I heard that,” Brynne said, depositing a fresh stack of bandages on the bedside table.

The man chuckled and looked back and forth between the sisters. “Doc Oliver is sure lucky having the two of you to help him out. Why, it’s almost worth getting hurt just to be able to visit with the both of you.”

Lucy finished bandaging his palm and gave his other hand a squeeze. “Mr. Eddings, you are welcome to visit any time you’d like, though we’d much prefer a visit when you aren’t sporting a gaping wound.” She smiled, helping the sweet old man to his feet. “Now, you be careful, you hear. I think you’ve had your limit of injuries for the month.”

Mr. Eddings wheezed out a laugh and went to settle his account with Mrs. Birch, the clinic’s formidable housekeeper.

Brynne stayed to help Lucy tidy up the exam area, and Lucy braced herself for the lecture she knew was coming.

“Richard ran into David Burrows this morning.”

“Did he?” Lucy said, feigning ignorance. Brynne and her husband Richard had been arranging little meetings and outings with single men for years now, but lately their matchmaking efforts had risen to heights that would terrify a mountain goat. They just didn’t seem to grasp that Lucy had no interest in marrying. Anyone. Ever.

“Oh, don’t you go playing the innocent with me, Lucy Richardson. You know very well you left that boy twiddling his thumbs all night waiting for you!”

“I most certainly did not! I showed up. I just left a little early, that’s all.”

Brynne snorted. “You pretended to have a headache and left five minutes after arriving. You didn’t even give poor David a chance. He’s a perfectly nice young man. Handsome, from a good family. I swear, you’d find fault with a saint.”

Lucy sighed. “There wasn’t anything wrong with him. He seemed perfectly nice. He’s just not…”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed, and Lucy swallowed the name she’d almost let slip out. The name she’d promised herself over and over she’d never say again. He just wasn’t…Finn.

Brynne’s face softened as she gazed at her sister. She put down the linens she’d been folding and gathered Lucy in her arms, giving her a quick hug. Then she pulled back and looked Lucy in the eyes, cupping Lucy’s face in her hands. “You have to let him go, Lucy. It’s been seven years. He’s never coming back.”

Lucy swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “I know. I’m trying.” She stepped back, out of Brynne’s embrace. “It’s just that…”

Brynne sat down on the cot and patted the spot beside her. Lucy sat reluctantly. She really didn’t want to have this conversation again.

“Lucy, believe me, I know what you are going through. After Jake died, I didn’t think I’d ever fall in love again. I compared every man I met to Jake, and none of them ever came close to measuring up. But then I met Richard.”

Brynne glanced around the clinic until she spotted her husband, deep in conversation with one of his patients on the far side of the clinic. “Even then, I almost let the memory of Jake ruin my chance for happiness.”

Lucy opened her mouth to speak but Brynne continued on.

“I know you loved Finn,” she said, her mouth hardening a bit as it always did when Finn was mentioned. She said she’d forgiven him for his role in her daughter’s kidnapping all those years ago. But no matter what she said, Lucy knew she’d never forget it. Even if she understood his motives and no longer blamed him for what had happened.

“But,” she pressed on, “you were so young. You didn’t have a chance to have a real relationship with him and you are letting the memory of your first romance, such as it was, ruin your future.”

Lucy stiffened, offended at the implication that what she felt for Finn was somehow lessened by the brevity of their relationship. “That is hardly fair, Brynne, especially coming from you. You married Jake when you’d hardly known each other and you were married a scant month before he died. How long did you pine for him?”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed. “That’s different and you know it.”

“How? How is it different? Because we didn’t have the time to get married? Neither did you, if you want to point at specifics. You didn’t even wait long enough for a proper wedding. You had Finn marry you, for crying out loud. It wasn’t even legal. So don’t dismiss how I feel, felt, for Finn because you are the last person who has the right to do so. I experienced more heart-pounding, soul-altering passion during my short time with Finn than I ever have with any of the men I’ve met since and frankly, I don’t think it’s possible to feel that again. We might not have had long together, but we loved a lifetime’s worth. So don’t you dare belittle it.”

Brynne sat back. But after a moment she nodded and took Lucy’s hand. “You’re right. I was dismissing how you feel and, I, of all people, should know that the amount of time someone spends with a loved one cannot dictate the intensity of the love. But I can’t bear to see you so unhappy. I don’t doubt that you loved him, but it was a very long time ago, Lucy. Even I moved on, eventually. I’ll always love Jake, but I’ve found happiness with Richard. There’s so much love and passion and fulfillment that you haven’t experienced yet. That’s all I want for you.”

Lucy looked down, not wanting to meet her sister’s gaze. Brynne didn’t know everything she and Finn had shared. She didn’t know of the stolen kisses in hidden corners, all the moments spent whispering, planning, dreaming. Or of the night that Lucy had crept into Finn’s room, into his bed, and had offered herself to him.

Lucy turned her head to hide the blush that still threatened to rise, all these years later, at the memory of that night. Brynne was wrong if she thought Lucy had never experienced passion. Finn had refused to take her innocence. He’d insisted that they wait until they were properly wed. But they’d done other things. He’d spent the night showing her how he loved her in more ways than she could have ever imagined. They’d pledged themselves to each other.

And then…everything had gone to hell. And he’d been forced to run. She’d told him to run, told him to save himself. But she never dreamed that he wouldn’t return for her.

“He is gone,” Brynne said gently. “He left you standing there in that field. If he was going to come back for you, he’d have done so by now. And with the war…well, you can’t be sure that he—”

“No,” said Lucy, raising her hand for Brynne to stop. “Don’t say it.”

Lucy knew the chances were very good that Finn was dead. So many men had lost their lives during the war. So many would never be coming home. But Lucy refused to believe that Finn was one of them. She’d poured over the casualty sheets that had come in. His name had never been listed. But then, she had no idea where he’d been. Or even what side he’d been fighting for. For all she knew, he might have been fighting for the South. Or he might have gone to Europe to escape the conflict. Or perhaps he’d gone back to California and made amends with the Mohave tribe who’d raised him.

Brynne was right. Dead or alive, Finn was never coming back. He’d gone back on all his promises, chosen to leave her, and he’d made damn sure she’d never find him. So why couldn’t she let him go? Find another man who could make her happy, who she could share her life with, have children with, grow old with?

She’d tried. She really had. But no one ever measured up. And she’d rather grow old alone, the spinster aunt to her sisters’ children, than live in a joyless marriage just for the sake of being married.

Brynne watched Lucy for a moment and then gave her a quick one-armed hug. “All right, I’ll let it drop for now.”

Lucy rose gratefully and went about her work, hoping her sister had forgotten…

“Wait a minute.”

No such luck.

“If you left David minutes after arriving at the theater, where were you all night? You didn’t come home until well after midnight.”

“I…went for a ride in the park.”

Brynne’s gaze darted around, and she leaned in closer so only Lucy would hear her hiss, “Lucy! You didn’t.”

Lucy put on her most innocent expression. With the war a year behind them, life was returning to normal, but there were still those who needed help. Those the sisters could assist in secret, leaving small gifts of goods or money when no one was looking. Brynne didn’t mind Lucy riding off on those missions. She even helped as often as she could. But during the war, when times were hard and many were suffering, Lucy had found occasion to resurrect her old bandit persona in order to mete out a different sort of help. Brynne did not approve of Lucy’s vigilante-style of justice. Lucy was always careful, but she was never one to turn away from a person in need. And if that meant trussing up a few bad characters before they could get away with their crimes, then Lucy didn’t see the harm in it.

Brynne, however, disagreed. But Brynne had done more than that in her day, so she could hardly protest too much, and Lucy heartily needed something to bring a little excitement into her life. She was happy working in her brother-in-law’s clinic and helping to look after her nieces and nephews. But a girl had to do something to get her blood pumping every now and then.

“Lucy!” Brynne hissed again.

“I was careful. Don’t worry.”

Before Brynne could really get into her browbeating, Mrs. Birch escorted another patient into the exam area. Lucy took the opportunity to escape her sister and rushed to help the man to a cot.

“This isn’t over,” Brynne whispered to her as Lucy got the man settled. “We’ll discuss it at home.”

Lucy smiled over her shoulder at Brynne, ignoring her sister’s glare, and turned her attention to the man before her.

“Hi, there,” she said, smiling. “What can we do for you today?”

“Well, ma’am, I fell crossing the road yesterday. Landed on my arm hard. It always acts up a bit now and then, since the war.”

Lucy nodded her head sympathetically as she rolled up his sleeve, exposing a tangled mass of scars running up the length of his arm.

“You were lucky you were able to keep the arm,” she said, awe in her voice.

“Yes, ma’am, that’s the right honest truth. Thought for sure the doctor was going to amputate a few times, but we hung in there.” He patted his arm with a laugh. “Still aches like the dickens sometimes, especially when it’s cold or there’s a storm coming. And it seems to be a bit weaker than the other one. Can’t grasp things near as well, that sort of thing.”

Lucy nodded and continued her examination while he spoke. She’d definitely have Richard come look at it, though she was pretty sure she knew the problem. Still, she was only a nurse, not a doctor, and not even a properly trained one at that. When the war hit, Richard had expanded his clinic, taking in as many wounded as he could. Brynne and Lucy had gotten a crash course in nursing, though Brynne had already been helping in the clinic. By the time the war ended, they were both fair nurses.

Lucy helped full time most days, though Brynne didn’t spend as much time in the clinic as she used to. Coraline was almost in her teens and becoming quite a handful, and her younger brother and sister were keeping Brynne very busy. With the war over and the demands on Brynne’s attention lessened, she was spending as much time as she could with her children.

“Well, Mr.…”

“Watley.”

“Mr. Watley, I’m fairly certain you’ve sprained your arm. I’ll have the doctor come take a look to be certain. But as far as I can tell, you haven’t broken it.”

“Well, that’s a blessing, miss.”

Lucy smiled kindly at him and looked up to catch Richard’s eye. He nodded and held up a finger, indicating he’d be a minute.

Lucy settled into the chair by the cot. “Where were you when you were injured?”

“You’ll have to be more specific, miss,” Mr. Watley said with a laugh.

“Your arm.” Lucy laughed along with him. It felt good to laugh again. And she was glad Mr. Watley could have a good sense of humor about it. A rare gift under the current circumstances, for certain.

“Ah, my poor arm. Well that one happened in the Battle of Cedar Creek. Cannon blast hit the wagon I was hiding behind. Blew it to bits. Most of which ended up in my arm.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. How awful.”

“Not at all, miss,” he said with a huge grin. “This arm,” he patted it fondly, “saved my poor face from taking the full brunt. Only one little sliver caught me, just here.” He turned his head to show her a thin, jagged scar running up his jaw line to his ear. “Yes, ma’am, I’ve got a good arm here, that’s for certain.”

Lucy smiled, amused at the man’s fondness for his arm. He spoke of it as if it were a beloved pet. And she applauded his ability to find a way to be happy over his troubles.

“Well, we’ll have to make sure we take good care of that arm then. You were lucky indeed to have it with you that day.”

“Oh yes, ma’am, that’s for certain. Even more lucky that I had Fish with me.”

“Fish?” Lucy said, almost afraid to ask. “You had a lucky fish with you?”

“Ha!” Mr. Watley chortled so hard his face turned bright red. “Ah, bless you, miss. Not a real fish. A man.”

“A man named Fish?”

Mr. Watley was still chuckling. “Well, that’s what we all called him. A right good soldier he was. Fearless. Always running off on crazy missions. Like he had a death wish or something. Only nothing ever touched him. Oh, he was wounded a time or two. I don’t think a man alive escaped without some sort of damage or another. But nothing ever bad enough to slow him down. Not Fish. Never seen a man like him. Saved my life more than once. And my ugly mug a time or two as well.”

Lucy smiled and patted Mr. Watley’s hand. “You were lucky indeed to have him.”

Richard came over and introduced himself, quickly getting to work wrapping the arm that was, as Lucy had suspected, sprained.

Lucy kept up her conversation with Mr. Watley to help distract him from any discomfort he might be feeling.

“Why did you call your friend Fish, Mr. Watley?”

“Oh, well, because that’s what he looked like.”

Lucy grinned. “He looked like a fish? How so?”

“Oh, you’d never seen a man like him before, miss, I can promise you that. He’d probably frighten the wits out of a gentle thing like you. Used to fair scare them graybacks when he’d go runnin’ at them, all fierce and furious. You’ve never seen a thing like it.”

“Well, a fierce warrior doesn’t sound much like a fish to me,” Lucy said, helping Mr. Watley to stand once Richard had finished with his arm.

Mr. Watley chuckled again. “It was them lines he had on his face.”

Lucy stopped short. The blood rushed from her face, leaving it ice cold and frozen. She could see Mr. Watley looking at her with concern but couldn’t force a reassuring smile to save her life. Her head felt curiously light, as if it would float off at any second. But her heart pounded so hard it hurt, each beat a painful stab to her chest.

“He had lines on his face?” she heard herself ask, though she had no conscious thought to speak.

“Yes, miss. Here now, are you all right? Doctor!”

“Lines…marks…two T-shaped marks just here?” she asked, pointing to her cheekbones.

“That’s right, miss. How did you know?”

“And more lines…five lines, going from his lower lip to his chin?”

“Yes, miss. Always looked a bit like fish gills, I thought. And then with his name…Fish just fit.”

“His name? A fish name?”

“What is it?” Richard asked, having come at a run at Mr. Watley’s call. “Lucy, what’s wrong?”

Richard grasped her arm, bending over her, his eyes round with concern. She pushed him aside so she could see Mr. Watley again.

“A fish name?” she asked again, her voice sounding shrill and desperate even to her own ears.

“Yes, miss. Finn his name was. Well, that wasn’t his real name, just the short version. His real name was—”

“Finnegan,” Lucy whispered, black spots beginning to lick at the corners of her vision.

“Yes, miss. That’s it.” Mr. Watley was astounded. “Finnegan Taggart.”

Lucy barely registered the sight of Richard jumping forward to catch her before her vision went completely black and she was sucked into blessed nothingness.

Chapter Three

Lucy grabbed another petticoat and shoved it in her trunk. Brynne stood in the doorway, her year-old son James on her hip. Lucy determinedly kept from meeting Brynne’s eyes. She didn’t want to see her sister’s thin-lipped disapproval. Or the fear in her eyes that she was trying so hard not to show.

Her brother-in-law Richard came to stand behind his wife and son. He put a hand on Brynne’s shoulder. “You have nothing to worry about, Brynne.”

Brynne snorted. “I wouldn’t say ‘nothing.’ My head-cracked sister might just be the death of me yet.”

Richard chuckled and Lucy turned her head so her sister wouldn’t see her smile.

“It’s not funny, Richard! She’s going all alone. She might get hurt or get in trouble or—”

Richard laughed again, ignoring Brynne’s glare. “She’s a Richardson, Brynne. She rode the trails with you and robbed stagecoaches when she was barely old enough to sit a horse, for heaven’s sake. I’m more worried about the poor citizens of whatever city she’s going to tear apart to find that man.”

“Thank you, Richard,” Lucy said, rolling her eyes at him.

Brynne’s lip twitched, amusement breaking through the worry on her face. Richard took James from her and kissed her on the forehead. “We’ll just wait downstairs.”

Lucy gave her brother-in-law a grateful smile. He winked at her and then left, leaving her alone with Brynne.

Lucy turned to her sister. “Look. I know you worry about me. But I’m more than capable of taking care of myself. You and Cilla were in your teens when Mama and Papa died. But I was just a little girl. Hell, I grew up riding the trails with you, fighting off Frank and his goons to keep the ranch and the town afloat. I was able to shoot a tick off a dead dog’s back before I was old enough to put my hair up.”

Brynne sighed. “I know. You’re as tough as they come, no doubt about it. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you. I don’t care how old you get or how strong and tough you are. You’re always going to be my baby sister. And I hate that you are going to do this alone. If you’d just wait…or let one of us go with you.”

“You have children to care for. You don’t need to be dragging them all over the South. And I’m not going to take Richard away from his patients, though I know he would willingly come if I asked. I will be fine on my own. In fact, I prefer to go alone. If I need you, you’re just a telegram away.”

“I know. It’s just…”

Lucy closed the lid of the trunk and leaned on it for a moment, closing her eyes while she concentrated on reining in the overwhelming panic that had been gnawing at her since Mr. Watley’s revelation. She had never been so excited, or so terrified, in her life. There were so many what-ifs running rampant through her mind that her temples pounded with the force of them.

What if Mr. Watley had been mistaken? What if she couldn’t find him? The thought of what would happen and how she’d feel, if the hope building in her chest was crushed once again was staggering. She’d barely survived losing him the first time. She didn’t think she could do it again.

And that was the crux of the dilemma, wasn’t it? What if she did find him and he didn’t want her? Didn’t love her anymore, or worse, didn’t even remember her? Wouldn’t it be better to leave things as they were? At least now she had her good memories to hold onto. If she looked for him, things could end so much worse.

Then again, what if she found him and all her dreams came true?

But how often did that happen?

Lucy raised a shaking hand to her stomach and closed her eyes. Her mind, body, and soul were in turmoil. Once she started on this journey, there was no going back. She’d found a sort of peace in the life she had. Was it worth it to risk that peace? When doing so might shatter her beyond repair?

“What would you do, Brynne?” Lucy whispered. “If someone told you’d they’d seen Jake…would you go? Just to see? Just to make sure?”

She finally looked up at her sister, knowing it was unfair to use her deceased brother-in-law against Brynne but wanting her to understand, to support her decision.

Brynne held her stony-faced expression for a second longer, and then her face fell. She came into the room and sat on the bed. “Yes,” she said quietly. “I would go.”

Lucy let a sob escape and sat beside her sister, welcoming Brynne’s embrace. She let Brynne hold her and rock her, just as she had when they were children.

It had been seven long years since the night Finn had left. Running from the law, and from Brynne’s wrath, after his part in the kidnapping of Coraline. He’d only done it to protect Coraline from his smuggling partners when they had decided to kidnap her for ransom in order to recoup their losses from Brynne’s bandit activities. But with his partners dead and the police bearing down on him, Finn had fled for his life.

Lucy understood. It had been necessary at the time. She’d wanted him to go, told him to flee to safety. But she hadn’t thought he’d stay away forever. Eventually Brynne had calmed down and had come to understand that he’d only done what he needed to in order to protect her daughter. The police were no longer looking for him. But still he hadn’t returned. Lucy had heard nothing from him except for a note he’d sent a month after he’d disappeared, letting her know he was all right. She’d gone to look for him. And hadn’t found him.

Then the war started, and everyone’s life had been thrown into chaos. But Lucy had thought of Finn every waking day.

“I still dream of him nearly every night,” Lucy whispered. “But his face isn’t clear anymore. Sometimes I’m afraid I’ll forget it entirely. But when I dream, I hear his voice as if he’s standing next to me.”

“Oh, Lucy,” Brynne said, hugging her sister tighter.

“I know you wish I’d marry one of the suitors you’ve found for me. Sometimes I wish I could. I wish I could fall in love with someone else, let go of Finn once and for all. But I can’t. How can I pledge myself to another when nearly every night I hear his voice in my dreams? And then wake in the morning feeling his loss all over again.” Lucy shook her head. “I’ll never marry. I don’t think I’m capable of loving anyone else.” She laughed. “Besides, I’m already an old maid. Who would want me?”

Brynne sniffed. “Old maid. Hardly. Any man would be lucky to have you.”

Lucy sat up and gave her a sad smile. “No. I can’t burden a man with a wife who could never love him as he deserved.”

“Lucy, you don’t know that you can’t love another. You’ve never really tried. You compare everyone you meet to Finn, and perhaps that is natural. But you’ve never truly and properly tried to let him go. You’ve always hung on to the hope that he’d come back someday. How can you move on with your future if you are still so tightly holding onto the past? I know this is hard to hear, but on this subject, I know what I’m talking about.”

Lucy sighed. Brynne was right. Though she had tried to let Finn go. Truly. She filled her sleepless nights with secret charity drops and the occasional black-masked act of banditry or vigilante justice…anything she could do to keep her mind from dwelling too long on Finn. Nothing had worked.

But now…now she had news of him. He was alive! And she had a good chance of finding him. Mr. Watley had seen him just a month prior, down in Charlotte. He’d been happy to run into his old friend, though Finn had apparently not been as happy to see Mr. Watley. Mr. Watley chalked it up to the war. No one had come away unscathed and few wanted to be reminded of those days. From the stories Mr. Watley told her, Finn seemed to have tried his level best to get himself killed. All he’d succeeded in doing was to commit more heroic acts than anyone else in the regiment.

Now Lucy knew where he was. She only prayed he was still there.

Even greater than her fear that he would leave again was another fear. One that made her nauseous with dread.

“What if he doesn’t remember me?” she whispered, hardly daring to give the fear voice.

Brynne scoffed. “Not possible.”

“But it’s been so long. I was hardly more than a child when he left.”

Brynne gazed at her long and hard. Finally she grasped her hand. “You never forget the ones you love, Lucy. They burrow their way into your heart and never let go, no matter how many years may pass. Even if the love you once felt is no longer there, a piece of your heart will always belong to that other person.

“I’m not going to promise you that he still cares for you. It has been a long time, and much has happened to change you both since you’ve last seen one another. But I will promise you that he hasn’t forgotten you. He loved you once. Even I could see that, though I didn’t want to,” Brynne said with a smile.

“I’m not going to pretend that I’m happy with you going to find him,” she continued. “But I understand why you need to go. If you don’t, you’ll always wonder. Perhaps once you’ve seen him, once you’ve laid the ghosts of your past to rest, you’ll be able to move on with your life. Move on and find some happiness. That’s all I want for you. And I don’t think you’ll be able to truly let yourself be happy until you’ve made your peace with him.”

Lucy hugged her sister. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Brynne stood, quickly wiping at her eyes. “Well, you’d better hurry, or the train will be leaving without you.”

Lucy gave her a watery smile and grabbed her coat and hat. Finally, she’d see him again.

Excitement and terror warred with each other in the pit of her stomach. Maybe this trip wasn’t a good idea. But it wasn’t a choice really. If he wasn’t happy to see her…Well, she just prayed she’d be strong enough to walk away again. But at least she’d know for sure.

Chapter Four

Lucy turned the letter over and over in her hand. She’d read the brief note a thousand times, ten thousand times maybe, since it had been delivered. She’d kept it all through the war, looking at it whenever her loneliness had grown too overwhelming. The letter made her feel closer to him somehow. Reading it once more wouldn’t reveal anything new. But she couldn’t help herself.

I’m safe. Please don’t look for me. Have a good life. Be happy.

Be happy. Certainly. Perhaps if she could cut out her heart and grow a new one, she’d be able to find happiness without him. She’d tried. For years, she’d tried. After he’d gone, she’d courted every young man her family had thrown at her. She gone to parties and socials, she’d filled countless dance cards and accepted invitation after invitation. But every man she met had paled in comparison to Finn.

During the war, she had volunteered her services in the clinic, working beside Brynne and Richard until she’d dropped into bed each night, so weary she couldn’t dream. Since the war, she’d thrown herself into her work even more. Anything to keep busy, to keep her mind from straying to the love she’d lost. But nothing kept her visions of Finn at bay. His face haunted her waking hours and tormented her dreams. She had to find him, if only to lay the ghost to rest. Whether or not he remembered her, let alone wanted her still. But either way, she hoped finding him, seeing him again, would allow her in some way to move on.

“Charlotte, next stop!” the conductor announced.

Lucy gathered her shawl and slipped it over her shoulders. She had little hope that Finn was still in Charlotte, where Mr. Watley had seen him several weeks ago. But there was nothing to do but follow his trail. Surely, once she was here she’d hear some word of him. A man with Mohave tribal markings tattooed on his face would be hard to miss.

She stood and waited by the door to her first-class cabin for the train to come to a stop. The train slowed and Lucy exited the minute it jerked to a halt. She stood for a brief moment on the platform, unprepared for the heat that slapped her in the face. It was like trying to breathe through a wet blanket. She pulled off her shawl and made a mental note to schedule in some time to shop for some lighter clothing. Summers in Boston were hot, but the humidity in the South was something she’d never experienced before.

Lucy whipped out her fan, glad to have a little relief. But once the surprise of the heat dissipated, the enormity of her task overwhelmed her. People bustled all around her. How would she ever find him?

She only allowed herself a second to feel pity. For the first time in seven years she had word of him. Faint hope flickered through her. But that was more than she’d had in a long time. It was enough. She shook herself and looked at the letter in her hand. She might not know where he was right at that moment, but she knew where he’d been. Mr. Watley had seen Finn at the Chatford Hotel. Might as well start there.

Lucy headed to the main road and hired a carriage to take her to the hotel. On the drive there, she focused on breathing slowly, in and out. She’d never been anywhere alone before, let alone in a strange city. But hell, once upon a time, she’d covered her face with a mask and played the bandit, risking the wrath of her corrupt half brother to deliver much needed money and supplies to the besieged people of her town. Being the new girl shouldn’t be too hard.

The carriage pulled up to the Chatford Hotel and Lucy descended and marched right up to the desk, which was blessedly free from customers. The man behind the counter gave her a polite smile.

“Good afternoon, miss. How may I help you?”

“I need a room please.”

“Certainly. Are you checking in alone?” The man glanced behind her, his brow creased.

“Oh no, of course not. My husband has business in town and sent me along to get things ready for us here.”

“Ah, of course, of course,” he said, his face clearing. “Well then. Just sign the register here, please,” he said, indicating the next blank line in his book.

Lucy took the proffered pen and signed Mr. and Mrs. Finnegan Taggart.

She wasn’t sure what possessed her to use Finn’s name. She should have used something more common. Mr. and Mrs. Jones perhaps. But the sight of Mrs. Taggart sent a thrill rushing through her that was hard to contain.

Lucy didn’t like lying and under normal circumstances wouldn’t care if people knew she was traveling alone, but she had realized as she traveled South that people gave her less of a hassle if they assumed she was married. If they thought she had someone to look after her, they were less inclined to try and do so themselves. The last thing she needed was an overly helpful and concerned hotel clerk hounding her every move, trying to protect her. Besides, if she found Finn, it would make matters much easier if a man was seen going into her room.

That thought sent warmth spreading to long-forgotten parts of her and Lucy fought to keep a blank face. But she was a realist. She loved him and she’d been pining for him for seven very long years. If she were to find him again and discover that he’d been missing her as much as she’d been missing him…well, a disapproving desk clerk wasn’t going to stop her from hauling Finn into her room and locking the door behind them.

The clerk took the pen back from her and turned the book back toward him. “Well now, we live in a small world, to be sure.”

“Pardon?”

“We have another Finnegan Taggart staying at the hotel. I wonder if he could be kin to your man.”

It took Lucy a second to respond. Her face felt as if it was frozen in ice but she forced a smile. “It could be. I suppose there are a number of Finnegan Taggarts running about.”

The clerk chuckled. “I’m sure you’re right. Well, now, here is your key. You are in room number 325. I’ll just have the porter bring your bags up.” He snapped his fingers and a boy ran up with an eager grin and grasped the handles of her bags.

“Will there be anything else?” the clerk asked when Lucy hesitated by the desk.

She had to ask. The coincidence was too much. “Yes. Actually, this might sound a bit odd, but I was wondering, have you seen anyone unusual perhaps? He might have some…markings on his face?”

Lucy didn’t want to describe Finn in too much detail in case he was traveling in disguise. It hadn’t occurred to her to ask Mr. Watley if Finn’s tattoos had been covered when he’d seen him, and he hadn’t mentioned it. She had no idea what he’d been doing for the last several years, but based on his past business partners…well, she was sure there were people he’d rather not run into. Asking about a man with facial tattoos would be as memorable as seeing the tattoos themselves, or nearly so. No point in making this conversation any more memorable than necessary, for both Finn’s and her sake.

“No, Mrs. Taggart, I’m sorry. No one like that.”

“Well, he’s tall, blue eyes, light red hair…”

The clerk broke into a huge smile. “Now, that I can help with. The other Mr. Taggart I mentioned…”

“Yes?” Lucy whispered, her blood roaring in her ears.

“He fits that description.”

“Do you…?” Lucy forced herself to breathe and slow down, though it took all her willpower not to jump over the desk and shake the clerk by the lapels until he spilled every last drop of information he had about Finn. “Do you perhaps know where I can find him?”

“Certainly, ma’am. He’s right there.”

“What?”

The clerk jumped at her shrill voice. “There, ma’am.” The clerk pointed to the bustling lobby behind her.

Lucy turned, her heart dancing in her chest. She gripped her room key so tightly it bit into her flesh.

“Thank you,” she managed to choke out.

The clerk looked at her, a confused frown furrowing his brow, but his attention was thankfully taken by another guest.

Lucy stared in the direction the clerk had pointed, her vision going blurry at the edges. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to rein in her rioting emotions.

Finn looked different without his tattoos visible, but it was definitely him crossing the hotel lobby. He was older. His handsome face looked weary with a sharpness to it that hadn’t been there before. It took everything Lucy had to keep from running to him right there and then. But she didn’t want their reunion played out in the middle of a hotel lobby. What if he didn’t want to see her? What if…what if he was there with someone else? What if he was married? Lucy swallowed down the nausea that rose at that thought.

Tiny stabs of jealousy pricked at her with every pair of female eyes that Finn drew to him. Covering his tattoos was a smart move on his part, and it certainly helped him blend in, to a certain degree. But if he’d been hoping to avoid notice, he’d vastly misjudged his appeal. Six feet of muscled, strawberry-blond goodness with striking blue eyes were enough to make any woman forget her name.

Lucy missed the tattoos though. They were so much a part of him that he didn’t seem complete without them.

Finn started up the stairs leading to the guest rooms. Lucy strode to the staircase. The key to blending in, she’d often found, was to act as if you were supposed to be there. While she had every right to be in the hotel, following a man up to his room was not something a decent woman would do. As long as she didn’t appear furtive about it, no one should suspect she wasn’t where she was supposed to be. She kept her head up, her eyes ahead, and marched up the steps as if she knew where she was going. She only hoped Finn wouldn’t notice he was being followed.

At the landing, she turned left and hoped she’d chosen the right direction. She gasped and whirled around. Finn’s retreating back was entering a room several doors down from where she stood. Lucy pretended to fix her bonnet, fiddling with it and gazing at her reflection in one of the mirrors that dotted the hallway until she heard his door close. She cautiously glanced over her shoulder.

Seeing no one, Lucy hurried to the door she’d seen him enter, her heart nearly beating from her chest. She was about to see him again. Confront him about leaving. Find out where he’d been, what he’d been doing. Stare into those eyes again. Touch him. Breathe him in.

By the time she reached his door, the anticipation building in her was damn near suffocating. What if he had a wife and children behind that door? What if he didn’t remember her? The last time he’d seen her, she’d been a fresh-faced eighteen-year-old. Now she was twenty-five. A far cry from the young girl he’d fallen in love with.

She reached out to knock, then hesitated. What if he no longer loved her? It had been so long. Surely he’d moved on.

The flood of butterflies in her stomach rioted, her nerves overwhelming her. She should just leave well enough alone. She’d seen him. She’d seen that he was alive and well. Perhaps it was enough. If she walked away now, she’d at least be able to hold on to her fantasy awhile longer. Because if she knocked on that door only to be rejected or to find that he’d moved on…she didn’t think she could bear it.

She took a step back and frowned. His door was slightly ajar. The Finn she knew would never be so careless. Before she could back away farther, the door flew open and Finn grabbed her arm and hauled her inside. The door slammed behind her and Lucy found herself pressed against the wall, Finn’s large hand wrapped about her neck, not squeezing, but most definitely imprisoning her.

He locked the door, his eyes never leaving her. Lucy’s lungs screamed. She couldn’t draw in air fast enough. The initial rush of fear had melted into awareness. This was Finn. Her Finn. He held her captive, every inch of his body pressed against her, his gaze roving over her face as though he hadn’t eaten for an eternity and she were the juiciest piece of meat on the table.

The anger faded from his face the longer he stared at her. His fingers relaxed as finally recognition dawned. “Lucy?”

“Finn,” she whispered. But that was as far as she got.

He crushed his lips to hers, kissing her with a desperation that all but broke her heart. He pulled her against him, molding their bodies together. Lucy flung her arms about him, pressing as close to him as she could. He felt the same. Tasted the same. For a moment, it was as though no time at all had passed. A small sob escaped her throat, a sound that conveyed both her euphoria at finally being in his arms, and her frustration that they had so many layers of clothing between them. She wanted to feel every inch of him, feel his skin against hers. Engrain his very essence into her own so that he could never leave her again.

He tore his lips from hers, cupped her face in his hands, staring as though he couldn’t believe she was really there. She smiled, a laugh choking through her tears of joy. He was really there. In her arms again. Her heart was going to burst with happiness.

She reached up to tangle her hands in his hair, bring his lips back to hers, but he stopped her, grasping her wrists as he broke away from her. His eyes narrowed, his jaw clenched. She could see him shutting down, closing off from her.

“Finn?”

He spun away and Lucy’s knees nearly buckled in despair.

“What are you doing here?” He kept his back to her, his head hanging, defeated.

“Looking for you.”

“Why?” he asked, so quietly Lucy almost didn’t hear him. He looked at her, those beautiful blue eyes burning into hers. “Why?” This time the word was harsh, anguished, ripped from his throat.

“I…I wanted to see you. Make sure you were okay. You left without a word and then there was the war and I didn’t know…I’ve wondered, worried…”

Finn paced, liked some caged animal that was being goaded by malicious spectators. Lucy swallowed the lump in her throat, not wanting to acknowledge that her fantasies were crumbling around her.

“How did you find me?”

“Does it matter?”

Finn’s gaze shot to hers and Lucy straightened. He was different, harsher somehow. But he was still her Finn. And she was a Richardson, damn it. She refused to be intimidated by anyone.

“You just wipe that glare right off your face, Finnegan Taggart. I’ve traveled all the way from Boston with my heart in my throat—praying for the chance to get to see you again, make sure all was well with you. Last time I saw you, you told me you loved me, and while you might not feel the same after all these years, I thought what we had was special enough that we deserved the chance to find out. So here I am. And if you aren’t happy about me being here, well then, you can just say so and I’ll be on my way. But there isn’t any call for you to be glaring at me like I’ve done something wrong because the only one in the wrong here is you.”

Finn stared for a moment, blinking a few times before his lips pulled into a reluctant smile. He shook his head and looked at the floor. “I’d almost forgotten what a corker you are, Lucy Richardson.” He looked up at her. “Never met anyone with as much gumption as you. I’m glad you never lost that.”

He held his hand out, pointing to an armchair near the window. “Sit?”

Lucy eyed him warily, but he seemed to have shelved the antagonism for the moment so she perched on the edge of the chair, watching him as he took a seat opposite her.

“You look well, Lucy. I’m glad to see that. How have you been?”

Lucy wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question. Physically, she was fine. Perfect. But emotionally, she was a wreck and had been since the day Finn had walked away.

So she settled for a noncommittal, “Fine.”

Finn’s eyebrow quirked up and Lucy had to bite her lip to keep from smiling. Seven years or no, he still seemed to know her. Know when she was holding back.

“I’m fine. Really. I’ve been helping out in Richard’s clinic since the war started.”

Finn nodded. “I wondered how you fared. I’m glad to find you well.”

“You could have found that out at any time. Why did you never return?”

“You know why.”

“I know why you left. Or I know why you left Boston, in any case. Though I still think it was unnecessary. Brynne calmed down and saw reason eventually, just as I told you she would.”

Finn snorted. “Really? I would have bet my last penny that she would still want to skin me alive.”

“It took a while, but eventually she understood. She knows things would have been worse for Coraline if you hadn’t taken her. We know you had no choice. And I suppose I understand why you felt you had to leave Boston, at the time. But I want to know why you left me. Why didn’t you take me with you? Send for me? Or at the very least, let me know where you were? Let me know you were all right? Still alive? So many were lost in the war, and I never knew…never knew if you’d been lost, too.”

Finn looked out the window, the ordeals of the last seven years etched into his handsome face. “I guess I didn’t think it mattered anymore. I left. It was done with. Why dredge it back up?”

“Because I never stopped loving you,” Lucy said, her words hardly more than a whisper.

Finn blanched, his eyes closing, shutting her out. Lucy held her breath, waiting for him to respond. Waiting for him to pull her into his arms again, tell her how much he loved her, how happy he was that she had found him.

“You don’t know what love is,” he murmured instead.

Lucy’s breath rushed out of her and it took all she had not to cry aloud. But he wasn’t finished yet.

“You are too young to understand what you are saying. What you felt for me was nothing more than an infatuation. It will pass. It probably has passed. You are just holding onto something that no longer exists.”

Lucy’s chest heaved as she sucked in one lungful of air after another, hoping the oxygen would calm the nausea rising in her belly. And with the anguish came anger. She stood.

“I’m not the little girl you left in Boston all those years ago. I’m not a child to be told how she feels and doesn’t feel. How dare you try to belittle how I feel?”

“You might be older now, but you were little more than a child when we met. And much has happened since then. I’m not the same man you knew back then and you,” he said, staring ardently at her despite his words, “have changed as well, I’m sure. The war halted everyone’s lives in some way, I think. Whatever feelings you think you still have for me are just remnants of the past.”

Lucy’s hands curled into fists at her sides. She tried to rein in her mounting frustration but it was proving difficult.

Finn stood. “You might still have some lingering feelings for me because you haven’t had the opportunity to find something real.”

“Oh, bull’s balls!”

Finn’s mouth dropped open and he slowly blinked. Normally, Lucy would be mortified at her lapse into her former heathen slang, but the man was beyond endurance.

“I might have been young back then, but I wasn’t stupid. Don’t you dare try to tell me how I felt then, or how I feel now. I’m not a little girl, Finn. Don’t try to treat me like one.”

Finn watched her for a moment, as though he were sizing her up. And then he nodded. “You’re right. You aren’t a little girl. And you weren’t back then either, not really. I don’t think you’ve ever truly been young. You went straight from diapers to a bandit’s mask and then into a bloody war. You’ve never been one of those immature, flighty girls who doesn’t know her own mind. My apologies.”

Lucy took a deep breath and nodded, accepting his apology. Some of the fight had seeped out of her. She hadn’t been sure what to expect when she found Finn, but having to talk him into loving her wasn’t something that had occurred to her. Either he still loved her or he didn’t. It should be as simple as that. Best to find out and get it over with.

“Did you ever marry?” she asked. She held her breath, waiting for his answer.

“No. I never married.”

Lucy’s heart soared for one brief moment, until he spoke again. “There’s never been anyone I wished to marry. There never will be.”

If he had reached into her chest and ripped her heart out, it wouldn’t have hurt more than those words did. The lump in her throat damn near strangled her but she refused to let him see how much he’d wounded her.

And still…she couldn’t give up. There was something he was hiding from her. Something in his eyes when he looked at her.

“I told you not to look for me,” he said. “I told you to leave me be. How did you find me?”

“A patient at the clinic told me about a tattooed soldier he’d fought with in the war. A man with a death wish who fought like the devil himself. Who they called Fish,” she said with a faint smile. “Who else could he have meant, but you?”

“Watley?”

Lucy nodded.

“I should have left after he found me. I never dreamed he’d find you, too.”

“Perhaps it’s fate.”

Finn’s eyebrow cocked again. “Since when do you believe in fate?”

Lucy shrugged. “I’m not sure what I believe in anymore.”

“Lucy,” Finn whispered.

And there it was again. That tone in his voice. That look in his eye. That’s why she couldn’t just walk away from him. He did still love her. No matter what he said. Somewhere deep in that damaged heart of his, he cared for her. She knew it. Knew it, with every fiber of her rapidly fraying being.

She closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms about his waist. For half a heartbeat, he returned her embrace. And then he set her away from him.

“Go home, Lucy. I don’t want you here.”

“Then why did you kiss me?”

Finn’s jaws clench. “You surprised me. I wasn’t expecting to ever see you again and then you were there…”

Lucy made a minute move toward him again and he backed up. “It was a reflex, a mistake. One I won’t be repeating. You shouldn’t be here, Lucy.”

“I know you love me, Finn. And I love you. That’s why I’m here. Because I couldn’t let the only man I’ve ever loved just disappear from my life. Why can’t you just be truthful?”

“I have never been more truthful in my life than when I say that I do not want you here.”

Lucy’s vision blurred with tears she refused to let fall. Each word was like a wasp’s sting piercing her heart. The words she’d meant to say melted away under the intensity of his gaze.

“Why are you doing this?”

He looked at her again, let her see into the depths of those deep blue eyes. She could drown in those eyes and would do so willingly if he’d let her. “You don’t belong with me, Lucy. I’m no good for you. I’m no good for anyone.”

Lucy opened her mouth to protest but Finn raised his hand. “No. This won’t work. I told you this back in Boston. The years have changed nothing. Go home. Go find some handsome, respectable young man and forget about me. And let me forget about you.”

Finn made to walk past her to the door, but stopped, his shoulders dropping. He half turned his face toward her and Lucy filled with hope that he’d changed his mind. That he’d declare he’d been mad to try and send her away. Then he stiffened, his body rigid with determination, and pinned her with a hard gaze.

“Wait a few minutes after I leave. Make sure no one sees you leaving my room. Neither of us needs the scandal.”

To Lucy’s everlasting shame, a sob escaped her throat and the tears that had been burning behind her eyes finally fell.

Finn’s face softened and he closed the distance between them. He cupped his hand behind her neck, brushing his thumb across her cheek.

“Finn,” she whispered.

He kissed her forehead, his lips brushing across her skin so faintly she could barely feel them.

“Go home, Lucy. I don’t want you here.”

And then he was gone.

Lucy stared at the closed door long after he left while she struggled to stifle the heartbreak that was crushing her soul. Finally, she started to pull herself together, one emotional thread at a time, until she was able to shove her roiling emotions deep down and square her shoulders with new resolve.

Finn might have said he didn’t want her there, but he was lying. To her and to himself. And she was going to make damn sure she made him face the truth. He still loved her.

For the first time in many years, she felt a spark of her old fire. She had something to fight for again, and Richardsons never backed down from a fight.

Go home?

“No way in hell,” she muttered.

Chapter Five

Finn strode down the hallway and back down the grand staircase of the hotel, hardly seeing where he was going. He couldn’t believe she was really there. When he’d first seen her, he’d half thought she was a dream. What was she doing here?

He shouldn’t have kissed her. That had been a mistake. He could still taste her on his lips. Still feel her pressed against him. He could never let that happen again. It would do nothing more than hurt her further and wound him past the point of endurance. How many times had he wished he could hold her in his arms just one more time? Well, he’d gotten his wish. And now the memory of that kiss would be a bittersweet torture for the rest of his miserable life.

The pain in his chest tightened, making it difficult to breathe. He stopped short and forced a deep breath.

“Taggart! There you are, man. We’ve been waiting.”

Finn’s blood ran cold. The reason for his rejection of Lucy stood before him, impatiently waiting for Finn to catch up. Finn shoved his emotions back into the deep, dark hole inside his heart and turned to his employer. Philip Halford was an up-and-coming politician who had brilliant prospects in the mayoral election. Finn also owed the man his life, and therefore, his servitude. At least for the time being.

The man was the epitome of society: well-bred, civic-minded, philanthropic. Outwardly. Those in the right circles knew nothing of his murky past and he paid a lot of money to keep it that way. And now Finn was serving as his right-hand man. Finn had a feeling that Halford wanted to keep him close so he could watch him, more than any other reason. After the kidnapping fiasco in Boston, Halford had decided Finn’s talents would be of more use to him personally than out in the field. Finn didn’t agree. But he had little choice in the matter. Halford owned him, for all intents and purposes, for another two years.

So far, the job had been relatively easy. Finn had been helping with Halford’s campaign, overseeing the odd shipment or two when Halford had cargo coming in he wanted to keep secret, and occasionally he acted as a sort of bodyguard, keeping fans and detractors alike from getting too close to the politician. Though, in truth, nothing remotely dangerous had ever occurred. In fact, Finn often felt he should be guarding the public from Halford, rather than the other way around. The man took the whole political game a little too seriously. No old lady or baby within a mile of Halford was safe. And that was just the face he showed the public. If his true nature were ever revealed…well, it would take more than Finn to keep the man from a noose.

But now that Lucy had found Finn, something would have to be done. He’d just have to make her see reason, get her to return home. Though he was laughing at that thought even before it had been fully formed. Lucy was just as stubborn as her sisters. Perhaps even more so. As the baby of a trio of formidable women, she’d had to fight to get her voice heard. As a result, she was almost impossible to deter once her mind was set.

And she knew where he was now. It would probably be best, be easiest for both of them, if he disappeared again. The thought of leaving her sent another shard of anguish through his heart. He’d barely been able to turn his back on her the first time. Just now, leaving her in that hotel room had ripped open the scar on his heart and left a gaping, bleeding wound. How could he stand his ground and make her leave if she persisted, as he greatly feared she would?

He’d have to. He was no good for her and had nothing to offer. She might not care about his background or his lack of money, but society certainly would. And even more importantly, her family would never allow it. Brynne would flay him alive if she ever saw him again, no matter what Lucy said, and he couldn’t really blame her. He had kidnapped Brynne’s daughter. But he’d kept her safe from the smugglers he’d worked for—as safe and as happy as possible. If he hadn’t taken her, one of his associates would have. Finn shuddered to think what Coraline’s treatment would have been under their care.

But even if Brynne understood that, he doubted she’d forgiven him. She’d certainly never forget. And Lucy was too close to her sisters for their opinions to not matter to her. Even worse, if Lucy stayed, she’d be noticed by Halford. Lucy was beautiful, unattached, and rich. She’d be irresistible to his boss. He’d been looking for a wealthy wife for a while and though he’d prefer one a little more gently bred than Lucy, he’d overlook that for her fortune.

Finn could not let Halford get his hooks into her. No one would ever be good enough for Lucy but Halford was the worst sort of scoundrel. A criminal who masqueraded as the best society had to offer. Finn had once seen him break a man’s legs for failing to repay a debt and then return to a party with his politician’s grin on his face as though nothing had happened. He’d taken a man’s wife as mistress in lieu of payment on a deal, cheated orphans and widows out of their inheritances, ruthlessly pursued what he wanted and had trafficked in slavery, murder, mayhem, and misery. And those were just a few of the things Finn knew of. Halford was a black-hearted fiend, through and through.

It would be best if Finn left. Went somewhere Lucy could never find him. Where her association with him couldn’t hurt her. Perhaps he could try Australia. Or India. If it weren’t for Halford, that’s exactly what he’d do. But he owed Halford. And he wasn’t going to be allowed to forget that.

“Taggart?”

Finn jerked, startled out of his thoughts. Halford stood looking at him, his brow furrowed. “Are you all right, man?”

Finn straightened. “Yes, of course. My apologies.” He held his hand out, trying to lead Halford out the door. Finn wanted him out of the hotel before Lucy came downstairs.

“Is everything set for my speech?”

“Yes. I’ve done a thorough search of the venue. Everything is set up and secure and I have two of my men stationed inside making sure it stays that way. I’ll have the carriage waiting for you at the back entrance to bring you back to the hotel as soon as you are through.”

“Good, good. Though I thought I should take a few moments to mingle with the crowd afterward. Give them some personal attention. Kiss a few babies and all that. Must give the people what they want, eh?” Halford chuckled and Finn stifled a sigh. The man was an abject bore.

“I don’t think that would be wise, sir. I cannot guarantee who will be in the audience and therefore cannot guarantee your safety—”

“Nonsense. With you at my side, I have no fears. Now, shall we be off?”

“Yes, sir,” Finn said, resigned to another long afternoon of watching the politician swindling his way through another crowd of voters.

“Finn!”

Finn’s stomach dropped.

“Finn!”

Lucy had made her way down the stairs and was marching purposely toward them. Finn tried to ignore her. He turned his back, hoping he blocked the view of her, and tried to steer Halford out the door but Halford was looking over his shoulder at Lucy with an interest that made Finn’s blood burn.

“Well, now. Who is this delightful creature?” Halford asked as Lucy caught up with them.

Finn fumed, his jaw locked tight, anger and a thread of fear pumping through him. Lucy looked from him to Halford, obviously waiting to be introduced. When Finn didn’t say anything she turned her pert little chin up in the air and addressed him herself.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance, sir. I’m—”

“This is my cousin,” Finn interjected. “Lucy.”

Lucy frowned up at him, confusion and hurt shadowing her eyes. Finn was sorry to cause her more pain, but she needed to understand that there was nothing between them. And he couldn’t allow Halford to know how much Lucy meant to him. Couldn’t give him any more leverage to use against him. Making her his cousin kept their true relationship secret and kept her real identity hidden. Hopefully, Halford would assume she was as unworthy as Finn and undeserving of his interest.

“Shame on you, Taggart! You never told me you had such an enchanting cousin. Tell me, my dear, are you in town visiting, or do you live in our fair city? Though surely you must be visiting for I am certain I would have made your acquaintance before now had you been in Charlotte for any amount of time.”

Lucy gave Halford a polite smile. “I just came into town to visit my cousin,” she said, her nose wrinkling a bit at the word. “I’d only just heard he was here. We lost contact during the war.”

“Of course, of course. Such a shame you lost touch,” Halford said, eyeing Finn thoughtfully. “But how delightful to finally meet up again! Well, you must certainly join us. Do you have any plans this afternoon?”

“Yes,” Finn interrupted. “I believe my cousin needs to pack her belongings. She is returning home first thing in the morning.”

Lucy glared at him.

“Oh, that’s a shame,” Halford said, his shrewd eyes darting between them, though he played oblivious to the tension burning between the two. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to stay longer? I’m just on my way to deliver what I believe will be a very enlightening speech and I will be hosting a ball in just a few weeks at my home. It would be wonderful if you could attend.”

“I’m afraid she can’t—”

“Why, that sounds wonderful!” Lucy said, ignoring Finn. “I was just telling Finn that I wished I could stay a bit longer and now I have the perfect excuse. I’m sure my family wouldn’t mind if I prolonged my visit.”

“Wonderful!” Halford exclaimed. “Would you care to accompany us? It would be my pleasure to escort you.” He offered Lucy his elbow, his greedy gaze devouring her in a way that made Finn want to pummel the man.

“That would be delightful, thank you.” Lucy took Halford’s elbow, threw a triumphant look over her shoulder at Finn, and allowed Halford to lead her out the door to the waiting carriage.

Just perfect. Dread settled into a hard, icy knot in his gut. Not only had he not succeeded in getting Lucy to leave, but she had firmly ensconced herself in the lion’s den. She had no idea who she was dealing with and Finn needed to enlighten her. In the meantime, he was going to have the dubious pleasure of watching as she was squired around town by the man he was working for. Which meant Finn would be forced to witness every smarmy move on Halford’s part. And Finn would be in Lucy’s company. Every day.

His sanity would never survive.

…

The carriage pulled up in front of a small courtyard of a run-down factory where a platform had been constructed. Lucy was taken aback at the location. She’d expected Mr. Halford would be addressing a group of upper-class men, perhaps in an upscale club or a supporter’s mansion or some such place. But the crowd already milling around in front of the stage consisted of largely middle-to lower-class whites. Lucy was surprised to see quite a few black faces among the throng, considering the fact that it was not yet legal for them to vote in this part of the country.

She clambered down from the carriage gratefully. The tension inside had been thicker than frozen molasses with Finn glowering at her the entire way. Well, tough for him. Despite what he said, Lucy didn’t believe that he truly wanted her to go away. That kiss when he’d first seen her…Lucy’s heart skipped a beat at the mere memory. He loved her, she was sure of it. She just had to make the stubborn ass admit it. And to do that she’d need to stick around.

Mr. Halford held out his arm with a gallant smile and Lucy once again took it, letting him draw her into his side. Finn’s look darkened, his jaw clenching so tightly his lips almost disappeared. Well, maybe a little jealousy would help things along. After all, surely he wouldn’t stand by and let her be courted by someone else. And whiling away a few hours with the charming Mr. Halford might be amusing. He seemed pleasant enough and he was certainly handsome. Lucy could think of worse ways to spend her time.

Finn turned away and scanned the crowd while Mr. Halford deposited Lucy near the front. She watched the gathering assembly with interest. There were a good many angry faces among the waiting spectators, which was curious, as the speech hadn’t yet begun. Finn’s voice at her elbow made her jump.

“Some of Mr. Halford’s ideas are a bit unpopular with the public. Well, with the upper-class white public, at any rate.”

Lucy turned to Finn with interest. “Oh. And what would those be?”

“He advocates voting rights for everyone, regardless of race or social status. Including former slaves.”

“Everyone? Even women?”

“I should have said all males. Even he isn’t that progressive.”

Lucy snorted. “Well, it’s something, I suppose. Better than most politicians in the area, I’d imagine.”

“Oh, don’t mistake his policies for his actual beliefs. He’s just a bit more shrewd than most. It’s a huge, untapped voter population. If he’s popular with them, and they turn out in droves to vote, he’s almost guaranteed to win.”

Lucy cocked her head as she gazed at him. “You don’t seem to like your employer much.”

“I loathe him.”

Lucy’s eyes widened and Finn shrugged, his attention on Mr. Halford as the man mounted the stage. “Whether I like him or not is irrelevant. I was hired to be his errand boy and occasional bodyguard. I don’t have to like him for that.”

Lucy followed his gaze. “Shouldn’t you be up there with him?”

“He doesn’t wish to appear fearful. I can keep an eye on things from down here. And another of Halford’s men is on the platform with him. Mr. Halford is paranoid and self-serving. He wouldn’t be up there right now if he thought he was in true danger.”

“Rather cynical of you, Mr. Taggart.”

Finn’s gaze met hers and Lucy fought to breathe. She wanted nothing more than to throw herself in his arms and beg him to love her. But his private rejection had been miserable enough. She certainly had no intention of forcing a repeat performance in public.

“Not cynical. Realistic. I prefer to keep my feet firmly planted in reality, not bury my head in the sand and only see what I want to see.”

“And why do I get the feeling we aren’t discussing Mr. Halford anymore?”

“You need to go home, Lucy. Nothing you do will convince me to change my mind. Staying here will only mean more heartache. Go home.”

Lucy looked away, clenching her jaw against the anguish burning its way up her throat. When she could speak without blubbering like a heartsick fool, she answered him, though she kept her gaze glued to the stage. “I have no intention of returning home just yet. I’ve never been to Charlotte. I should really make the most of my visit while I’m here.” Her eyes focused on Mr. Halford. “Besides, you aren’t the only dog on the prairie, Finnegan Taggart. If you don’t want me, there are other men who might.”

Mr. Halford caught her gaze and aimed a charming smile and bow in her direction before moving his attention back to his rapt audience. Lucy looked up at Finn, gratified to see he’d caught their exchange, and didn’t seem to be at all pleased about it. “Why shouldn’t I stick around and see what might come of it? There’s nothing for me in Boston.”

Finn grabbed her arm and pulled her to the side, away from any prying ears. “Lucy, Halford is not someone you should be getting involved with. You need to stay away from him.”

“Why, Finn? Tell me the real reason you don’t want me to see him.” Lucy held her breath, hoping and praying he’d just fess up and tell her he loved her and couldn’t stand to see her with another man.

Finn’s eyes drifted from hers down to her mouth, lingered. He leaned a fraction of an inch closer and Lucy held her breath. She wanted to press closer, close the distance between them. He wanted to kiss her again; she knew it. Could feel it in the sudden tension in him, the way his grip tightened slightly on her arm, the slight hitch in his breathing.

Then Finn glanced toward the stage. Lucy followed his gaze and saw Mr. Halford briefly frown between the two of them before plastering a grin back on his face. Finn let go of her arm.

“I can’t discuss it here. Suffice it to say, he’s not right for you.”

Lucy forced down the tears that threatened to erupt and straightened her backbone. “Well, by your own choice, my personal life is no longer any of your business. I’ll see whomever I wish to see. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

Lucy moved closer to the stage and watched the crowd as Mr. Halford spoke. There were a few faces, those belonging to the more affluent men, Lucy noted, who glowered menacingly at Mr. Halford as he spoke. But the majority of the crowd watched him with interest.

Lucy forced a smile to her face when Mr. Halford winked down at her. No matter what she wanted Finn to think, she’d never be able to replace him. Mr. Halford was handsome, powerful, rich, and well connected. Everything a girl should want. And Lucy didn’t feel even a spark of attraction to him.

Yet, if Finn had his way, she’d have to learn how to live without him. She didn’t know if she could. She’d managed to survive for the last several years by withdrawing into herself. Staying numb, detached. But one look at Finn had blown her carefully crafted facade to bits. It was as though her heart had finally begun beating again.

And with its reawakening came the pain shredding through it. If Finn had his way, that would be something she’d need to learn to live with as well. Because she couldn’t imagine it being whole without him.

Chapter Six

Lucy took a deep breath, enjoying the cool morning air before the heat of the late summer set in. The park across from the hotel was nearly empty this early in the morning and Lucy was happy to be able to wander unimpeded while she contemplated her predicament.

She’d been in Charlotte for two weeks now and she’d made no headway with Finn. The stubborn man still kept his distance from her, though she didn’t think he was as unaffected by her as he tried to pretend.

And a new complication was arising. Philip Halford. Since Lucy spent most of her time sticking as close to Finn as possible, and Finn was Philip’s right-hand man, she had been seeing a lot more of Philip than she’d expected. Philip, much to Lucy’s surprise, seemed delighted by her presence. Compared to Finn’s continued rejection of her, it was a bit of a balm to her spirit to have an attractive man seek her company, even if she did not return his interest.

Lucy meandered back to the hotel and was brought up short by the sight of Finn descending the steps toward a waiting carriage. He looked up and caught her gaze. For a moment, Lucy thought he’d continue on his way without a word to her, but instead, he came toward her.

Lucy watched him approach, her eyes drinking in every inch of him, the way his trousers hugged his legs, the snug fit of his vest and coat over his toned physique. She could very happily spend hours just watching him. He came to a stop in front of her and neither said anything for a moment.

Finally, Lucy nodded toward the carriage. “Are you going somewhere?”

Finn nodded. “Halford has a few tasks for me out of the city.”

Lucy tried not to show her disappointment. “How long will you be gone?”

“A week. Maybe two.”

“Oh.” She looked down at the grass beneath her feet. Lucy didn’t want him to go. She’d only just found him and the thought of him being away sent a rush of panic through her that she had a hard time controlling.

“Lucy, I—”

“Taggart?” Lucy and Finn looked toward the hotel to see Philip standing beside the carriage. When he caught sight of them, he hurried over. “There you are, man. You always seem to be disappearing on me. Quite annoying, I must say,” Philip said with a good-natured laugh.

Lucy knew how he felt, though she didn’t feel particularly jovial about it.

“I was just saying good-bye to my cousin.”

“Ah yes,” Philip said, turning his attention to Lucy. “The charming Miss Taggart. Well, never you fear. Finnegan will return shortly. In the meantime, I’d be delighted to help take charge of you. In fact, I’m attending a small musical soiree this evening. I’d be honored if you’d accompany me.”

Lucy hesitated and looked at Finn. Every line of his face was taut, his nostrils flaring slightly, though he was careful to show no real expression. A surge of irritation hit her and she made a snap decision. If Finn wanted to continue this charade, then she could too. Besides, she saw no reason why she should confine herself to her hotel room, pining over Finn while he was gone.

“I’d be delighted, Mr. Halford. Thank you.”

“It will be my pleasure, my dear. Well then, I’ll be by to fetch you at seven o’clock this evening, if that is acceptable.”

“I’ll be ready.”

“Excellent.” Philip turned his attention to Finn. “Taggart, you’d better be on your way, hadn’t you?”

Finn pinned Lucy with a glare that, far from his intention, she was sure, made Lucy bite her lip to keep from grinning. Then he smiled at her and stepped closer, grasping both her arms as he pulled her to him. “Be well, cousin,” he said. He kissed her cheek, letting his lips linger a fraction longer than was polite. He pulled back slowly, keeping his cheek pressed against hers for as long as possible. “I shall see you when I return.”

His eyes burned into hers and she pulled back a bit, startled by the intensity. “Take care, Lucy.”

Lucy nodded dumbly, unable to come up with a single coherent retort. Finn’s chuckle as he hopped into the carriage broke the spell and she glared after him. Then again, she’d definitely gotten a reaction out of him. One she quite enjoyed. If agreeing to a simple soiree aggravated him this much, she’d have to make it a point to attend a few more.

…

Lucy sat before her vanity table while Lilah, a maid the hotel had found for her, dressed her hair. She’d been kept busy lately as Philip had been squiring her all over town. She enjoyed his company more than she’d anticipated. He was charming, funny, and flirtatious. She found it surprisingly enjoyable. Still, she missed Finn. He’d been away nearly two weeks and Lucy was in a fever of anticipation to see him again.

Tonight, Lucy was accompanying Philip to a ball he was hosting. It was apparently one of the social events of the season and everyone of any note would be attending. Though Lucy only cared about Finn. Philip had mentioned that Finn had returned. If he was going to be at the ball, she wanted to make sure she looked her best.

The thought of seeing Finn again brought a blush to her cheeks. Lilah caught sight of it.

“Your young man won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”

Startled, Lucy met the maid’s eyes in the mirror. “Pardon?”

“Nothin’ puts a blush to a girl’s cheeks like the thought of her love.” Lilah winked at her and turned her attention back to the strands of hair she was braiding.

Nothing would make her happier than to see Finn’s face alight with pleasure upon seeing her. But she knew that wouldn’t happen. Even if he appreciated her appearance, he’d most likely frown and glower as always. Why did she keep torturing herself? She was growing fonder of Philip. Perhaps she should give up on Finn and try to move on with her life.

But she didn’t think she could.

“No, I don’t…I don’t have…he doesn’t…” Lucy was horrified to hear the hitch in her voice. Tears burned behind her eyes, and for the first time in weeks, they spilled over, running down her cheeks.

“Oh, Miz Lucy! I’m so sorry. I shore didn’t aim to upset you.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault.” Lucy took a deep, shuddering breath. “It’s just…oh, I’ve just bungled everything.”

Lilah listened intently as Lucy filled her in on the complexities of her relationship with Finn, and the added complication of Philip.

When Lucy had finished, Lilah pursed her lips, her deft hands weaving in and out of Lucy’s hair.

“Well I hope you pardon my say so, miss, but why are you still hankerin’ for a man who says he doesn’t want you?”

Lucy laughed, though there was no happiness in the sound. “Yes, that is the question, isn’t it?”

She didn’t answer for a moment and then finally shrugged. “I love him. I’ve always loved him. And I can’t imagine ever not loving him. When he left, he took a part of me. And now that I’ve found him again…it’s as though I’m whole once more. As melodramatic as this will sound,” she said with a wry smile, “I was merely existing when he was gone. And now that he’s here, I feel alive again. Like I’m finally myself. I can’t go back to the way things were. I can’t live like that anymore. And despite what he says, I think he still loves me, too. Whatever his reasons for not wanting me here, I don’t think a lack of love is one of them.”

“Well, then. I suppose you have yo’ answer.”

Lucy’s mouth opened to protest. But she couldn’t make the words come out. Lilah was right. There were only two options. Go back to Boston, back to her old life. Or stay, and try and talk some sense into Finn. And the first option wasn’t really an option.

She nodded. “Fight it is, then.”

Lilah placed her hands on Lucy’s shoulders and turned Lucy on the stool so she was looking full in the mirror. “I think the battle is more than half won already, miss, if’n I do say so myself. Even if the man had no feelin’s for you, he’d be sore pressed to resist you tonight.”

Lucy’s stomach somersaulted. “Well, I don’t know about that. But I’m going to do my damn level best to make Finn remember what he’s missing.”

“Finn? Finnegan Taggart?”

“Yes. Do you know him?” Lucy asked, surprised.

“Yes, miss. Very well. He’s a mighty fine man. You couldn’t do better and that’s the God’s honest truth.”

“I agree, but I hope you don’t mind my asking why you think so. How do you know him?”

Lilah looked down, her face carefully blank. “I run a school. At night. I teach folks how to read a little, write some.”

“I think that’s wonderful,” Lucy said, giving the maid a warm smile.

“You do?”

“Of course. I’m sure there’s a great need for that.”

“Oh yes, miss, there surely is. My first master let me be educated with his daughter. She never wanted to sit with her tutor, but if I was there, she’d behave all right. So I got to learn right along with her. And now, well, I thought, if’n I could help others learn, maybe that could help their circumstances. They could go up north maybe, get jobs. Somethin’ better’n what they got.”

“And Finn?”

“He helps me sometimes. Comes in and helps teach. There’s so many that want to learn and I only know a little. Don’t have room to teach many neither. So they take turns. Some come one week, some another. Mr. Taggart, he comes in a couple times a week and helps out when he can.”

Lucy’s heart warmed. That sounded like the Finn she’d known. “Well you sound like you could use some more help. I’d be happy to assist in any way that I can.”

Lilah’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, Miz Lucy, that would be wonderful. Truly. But surely you don’t have time.”

Lucy laughed. “Actually, I’ve got nothing but time. Until our dear Mr. Taggart warms to the idea of me being here, I have no intention of leaving. But the last thing I want to do is sit around the hotel all day. I’d love to do something useful with my time, and I can’t imagine anything more worthwhile than helping to educate those who need it.”

“You…you understand that the folks I teach…they…they former slaves. All of them.”

“Well yes, I assumed as much.”

“And that don’t bother you none?”

“Should it?”

Lilah’s face went carefully blank again. “There’s a lot of folks out here that want things back the way they were. They don’t take very kindly to those who tryin’ to change things up, no matter what the laws might say now.”

“Well, those people can just go kiss my great-aunt Fanny. I do what I like and there is nothing more that I’d like than to help you with your school.”

Lilah nodded with a cautious grin. “We’d sure be grateful.”

“Wonderful! Well, how about tomorrow morning we can go down to this school of yours and have a look-see.”

Lilah’s face fell. “I work at the hotel during the days. That’s why folks only come by at night.”

“You let me take care of that. I’m sure the hotel will agree to let me hire you out for the remainder of my stay. I’ll just tell them I have need of a lady’s maid. I’m sure they will be accommodating.”

“If Mr. Taggart don’t just fall at your feet, that man is a fool.”

Lucy laughed. “On that, we agree.”

She stood and took one last look in the mirror. “Well, let’s see if we can get our stubborn Mr. Taggart to see reason.”

Lilah smiled and Lucy took a deep breath.

…

Lucy spun in Philip’s arms, the room whirring by her in a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds. All the laughing women, the grinning men, the fancy dresses with their enormous hoops, flew past her vision in a blur. One face stood out. One smoldering, fuming face stood out from all the rest. Would always stand out. But his bad humor was his own fault.

It was obvious, from the way Finn had been glowering at them all night that he’d heard about her little excursions with Philip while he’d been away. She’d made sure they’d been seen together often enough. Or if that wasn’t the case, Finn was at the very least, unhappy about how comfortable she seemed with Philip. Or maybe he was just nursing the old gripe that she’d ignored his wishes and stayed in town for the single purpose of attending this ball.

Well…tough beans for him. They hadn’t had an opportunity to speak in private again since he’d returned, so she had no idea what his exact complaints against Philip were and at the moment, she didn’t care. She hadn’t seen any untoward behavior, nothing that raised any alarms. In fact, even though she’d never feel for Philip what she felt for Finn, she rather enjoyed his company. She even found it pleasant being in his arms, though the slight warmth she felt in Philip’s embrace did not come close to the smoldering burn that scorched her with a mere look from Finn.

But if Finn didn’t want her with Philip, all he had to do to was admit that he loved her. She wasn’t asking for much. She didn’t care if they married or not. She’d very happily live in sin with him for the rest of her mortal days. Burning in hell would be worth it if she could spend her life in Finn’s arms. Not that she believed they’d suffer those consequences. The worst that would befall them would be possible ostracism from society. And society, in Lucy’s humble opinion, could take a flying leap into a cactus patch. She’d gladly give up her good name if it meant being with Finn.

Whatever catastrophic issues Finn thought he had, she would deal with. Why couldn’t the stubborn man just see that if he’d let her help him, his life would be so much better?

“Stubborn mule,” Lucy muttered.

“Pardon me, my dear?” Philip asked, leaning in to better hear her.

“Oh, nothing. I think I could use a bit of air, couldn’t you?”

“Ah,” Philip said with a chuckle. “It is rather warm in here. Shall we venture out into the gardens for a moment?”

“Oh yes, let’s,” Lucy said, smiling up at him. She threw a quick glance over her shoulder at Finn, who, as usual, was right on their heels.

They stepped out onto the terrace and Lucy took a deep breath of the cool night air. Philip placed his hand on her lower back to guide her toward the steps and Lucy could have sworn she heard Finn’s jaw popping, he was clenching so hard.

Serves him right. She stifled the twinge of guilt she felt for using Mr. Halford to make Finn jealous. Though Lucy had no illusions that Philip was truly interested in her. After all, who was she? As far as Philip knew, she was merely the cousin of his employee. Hardly a suitable companion for someone from such an old family, someone who could very likely be sitting in the White House conversing with President Johnson in the near future.

From what she’d heard, Philip always had some pretty young thing on his arm, each more beautiful and richer than the last. She didn’t fit into his frame of interest, at least as far as he was aware, so Lucy didn’t know why he seemed so eager for her company. She didn’t care to know, truth to tell. His interest gave her a convenient way to stay close to Finn, so his suitability as a potential match was irrelevant. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her company, but Lucy was very certain his attentions, his honorable ones at any rate, didn’t stretch further than that.

They spent a few moments strolling about garden paths lit with colorful lanterns. Servants in brightly colored dresses and handsome suits wandered among the guests offering refreshments.

“Oh, there’s Judge Thomas. I really should say, hello. The old curmudgeon hardly ever pries himself from his comfortable armchair. He’d be quite put out if I didn’t make a fuss over him.”

Philip deposited Lucy on a bench and bent to kiss her hand. “Now, don’t go running off, now. You sit right there and have some refreshments,” he waved a girl over, “and I’ll be back before you even have time to miss me.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Lucy simpered.

Finn stared at her, his eyebrows raised. All right, perhaps she was laying it on a bit thick. But Philip didn’t seem to notice. He simply smiled, kissed her hand again, and hurried off.

“I don’t know what game you are playing at, but it’s revolting.” Finn stood beside her, his gaze moving around the crowd, never lingering on her for too long.

“Who says I’m playing?”

“Philip Halford is not the type of man you want to trifle with. You need to go have fun elsewhere. Preferably back in Boston where your sisters can keep an eye on you.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I am not a child. I don’t need anyone to keep an eye on me. Besides, I assure you, I’m not having any fun. Mr. Halford is a means to an end. And don’t start lecturing me about that either. You and I both know there isn’t a genuine bone in his politician’s body. Especially not where a pretty face is concerned. So no one is going to get hurt here.”

Finn just shook his head. “I have half a mind to tell your sisters what you are up to, so they can come fetch you back home.”

Lucy felt a momentary qualm at his threat but stamped it down. “They already know what I’m up to. They are fully aware I came down here to find you. Besides, you wouldn’t dare contact Brynne. You’re afraid she’ll skin you alive if she were to ever clap eyes on you again. You’re more scared of her than I am.”

Finn snorted, but he didn’t deny it. Both of her sisters were fierce on the best of days. But Finn had crossed an unspoken line when he’d kidnapped Brynne’s daughter, no matter what his reasons. Finn was lucky he’d escaped her wrath the first time. He’d never willingly face her again, especially since he knew he deserved her fury.

Lucy took a small cake from the serving girl Philip had summoned and thanked her with a smile. The girl gave her a quick curtsy and moved off.

Lucy lifted the cake to her lips and bit down just as Finn leaned down to speak in her ear.

“They used to be his slaves, you know.”

Lucy inhaled a cake crumb and had to cough a few times to dislodge it from her throat. She’d known Philip must have had slaves, of course. This was North Carolina. Practically anyone with any sort of means did. Still, being confronted with it was a bit startling.

“They aren’t slaves any longer.”

“They aren’t much better. Just because the laws changed doesn’t mean they are enforced. And changed laws don’t change people’s beliefs. I’m surprised you are courting a man who owned slaves.”

Lucy shifted on the hard bench, brushing invisible crumbs from her skirt. “We aren’t courting.”

A couple passing by glanced at Finn and Lucy, their faces alight with amused curiosity, obviously assuming the two were having a lovers’ tiff. Which, Lucy supposed, they were.

“Why are you mentioning all this?” she asked.

“Because if you are determined to continue with this game you are playing, I want you to understand who it is you are playing with. You are toying with a man who felt, and still feels, I might add, no matter what he says in his pretty speeches, that it is his right to own other human beings. A man whose sole purpose in life, at the moment, is to convince a state of like-minded men to vote him into a position of power so he can fight for their right to continue their way of life down here. And I am not just speaking of his servants. Halford uses any means necessary to get what he wants and that includes the people in his life. You have no idea what type of man he really is, what he’s capable of. And you are treating him like he’s some green boy in a misguided attempt to make me jealous.”

Lucy’s growing trepidation at Finn’s words made her anxious, but she shoved her unease down deep and focused on the last part of his statement.

“If it is a game I’m playing, I’m doing it rather well, I think. You are jealous, aren’t you?”

Finn blew out an exasperated breath. “You are acting like a ridiculous, childish brat, refusing to do what’s best for you because it’s not what you want. You have no care for anyone else’s feelings in this matter. Not mine, not even Halford’s, if the man were capable of any. I’m just waiting for you to stamp your little foot and proclaim that life is unfair.”

Lucy flinched from the anger in Finn’s voice, from the derision in his eyes. Is that how he really saw her? As a spoiled child? Ridiculous?

Hurt and embarrassment flooded through her, made worse by the fact that he wasn’t wrong. She was being childish. No matter what Philip’s true feelings toward her, it didn’t excuse her behavior toward him. She honestly didn’t know what was coming over her. It was like seeing Finn again had completely erased all common sense and decency in her, leaving her a raw, emotional mess that would do anything to anyone as long as it meant spending one more day with her love.

She didn’t know how much longer she could take it. Neither her so-called relationship with Philip or Finn’s continued rejection. She couldn’t let Finn go without a fight. But how long could she fight before she’d have to admit that there wasn’t anything there worth fighting for? The thought made her stomach churn.

“All right. Maybe I am being ridiculous, and yes, I do think that life is unfair. What a colossal joke. I fall in love with an amazing, wonderful man who is too stubborn to see just how incredible he is, who disappears from my life. Then I spend seven years not knowing if he’s dead or alive. Finally, by some miracle, I find him again, and he’s too damn stubborn to admit that he still loves me! So I’m forced into playing childish, ridiculous games just so I can spend another five minutes in his company.”

She looked down at the small cake she’d crumbled in her hands, defeat dragging at her heart. “Maybe you are right. Maybe it would be best if I just went home, left you in peace. Maybe it would have been better if I’d just gone on assuming you were dead.”

“Lucy,” Finn said, his wide eyes staring into hers. “I’m truly sorry if you are hurt. If I could take your pain away, I would.”

Lucy clenched her hands into fists, the urge to beat some sense into him so strong she trembled with it. “You could take it away! You just refuse to do so. Why can’t you just admit you love me? And don’t give me your nonsense about not being good enough. I am perfectly capable of deciding who is worthy of me.”

“Lucy…” Finn spread his hands wide, as though he were trying to calm a spooked horse. But he didn’t make any attempt to answer her.

“Damn it, Finn! Maybe you don’t even know how to love, because you sure as hell make it impossible for anyone to love you.”

The second the words were out of Lucy’s mouth, she wished she could yank them back. For a moment, Finn sat stunned, hurt flashing through his eyes. She’d never said anything so hateful, so mean, in her whole life. And she’d never meant anything less.

“Finn, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it. My God, I love you so much I can barely breathe when we are apart. I’ve scarcely existed these last seven years and then I found you and it’s as if I’ve woken from a nightmare. I just…the thought of going back to that hellish half-life has me crazed.”

No matter the pain he’d caused her, it was no excuse for saying something so cruel to him. How often had her heart broken over the thought of the man she loved being alone in the world? It was one of the reasons she’d been so determined to find him. And yet there she sat, throwing his sorrows back in his face.

Maybe she didn’t deserve him after all.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She stood to go.

“I’ve loved two women in my life,” he said, so faintly Lucy almost didn’t hear him.

“What?”

Finn gazed off into the distance, in the direction of Philip, though Lucy didn’t think he saw him.

“The first was a very long time ago. It…didn’t end well.” Finn turned to look at Lucy. “Then there was you. And that didn’t end well, either,” he said with a sad smile.

Lucy sat back down. “It doesn’t have to end.”

Finn stared into her eyes, his mouth slightly open as though he’d refute that, but he didn’t say anything. His gaze dropped to her lips for a moment before meeting her eyes again. Lucy’s breath quickened and she leaned ever so slightly closer. She wanted to encourage him without spooking him. Even in her own mind that sounded ridiculous. She felt like she was out to seduce some unwilling virgin. The thought almost made her smile. Then Finn bit his bottom lip and leaned in.

Lucy’s head swam and she closed her eyes, waiting for the touch of Finn’s lips. His breath brushed across her cheek.

Philip’s braying laugh rang out across the courtyard and Lucy’s eyes flew open. Finn was looking at her with a mixture of disappointment and alarm.

Philip began walking back toward them and Finn stood, his face going blank as he stepped back into his guard persona.

“Finn.”

He shook his head with a stubborn frown, his attention fixed on the approaching Philip. “We’ll talk later. This isn’t a game. You don’t understand the danger you’re in.”

“Wha—”

Philip stopped before her, looking between them with a cocked brow, effectively cutting off any further conversation. “Sorry to abandon you so long, my dear. Shall we go back inside?”

Lucy forced a smile to her lips. “Yes, of course.”

She looped her hand through Philip’s offered arm and let him lead her back to the ballroom. She glanced over her shoulder and was startled to meet Finn’s burning gaze. There was a renewed determination in his eyes and Lucy knew her fight to make him see reason had just intensified.

But he’d been about to kiss her. Lucy was sure of it.

Perhaps all was not lost after all.

Chapter Seven

Lucy glanced at Finn from the corner of her eye as he escorted her to her room in the hotel. They had shared a carriage with another couple who had come into Charlotte just for Philip’s ball. So Lucy had no chance to question Finn on his dire warnings. Honestly, his attitude was beginning to wear on her nerves. Since the close call in the courtyard, Finn had gone out of his way to not touch her. Not even when doing so was expected. He’d held the carriage door open for her, but had made no move to help her inside, leaving her to clamber in unassisted. He’d sat beside her in the carriage but had kept his gaze fixed on the window, never once turning in her direction and holding himself so stiffly he didn’t even brush against her skirts. Quite a feat considering the size of them.

Upon arriving at the hotel, the other couple descended, gave them a polite nod, and went on their way. Lucy hopped down after them, leaving Finn in the carriage. She had no wish for a repeat performance and didn’t want to wait in the carriage to see if he’d offer her his hand. Part of her was afraid that if he did and she took it, she’d never let it go. The other part of her was afraid he wouldn’t offer it at all. Best to beat him to the draw and just get out of the blasted carriage herself.

She hiked her skirts and took the steps of the hotel two at a time. Finn was right on her heels, but she ignored him. She was suddenly very weary. All the near misses, the what-ifs and guesswork, were wearing on her nerves and her patience. Lucy was certain he still wanted her. Whether or not he still loved her…that was more difficult to ascertain, though Lucy was willing to bet he did. His continued denial of that fact was getting on her last nerve. And the push and pull of her emotions with every almost kiss or significant eye contact was shredding what was left of her sanity. And dignity.

For the first time in her life, she might have to give up the fight. Enough was enough. Life was too short to waste it on such nonsense.

Lucy had always done what needed doing and didn’t give much thought to those who might not approve. She saw no point in hemming and hawing over anything. It had saved her a lot of indecision and guilt in her life. Things were usually fairly cut and dry for her. Lucy hadn’t liked herself or her behavior in recent weeks.

But Finn had always been the exception to her rules. He was patently unsuitable for her in every way most thought important…and yet she’d never met anyone more suited for her. He was a walking conflict. A complicated conflict at that. One who insisted he didn’t want her. And had he been anyone else, Lucy wouldn’t have bothered with him.

But he was Finn. Her Finn.

And not bothering hadn’t been an option. Perhaps that was changing.

They’d reached her door. She turned to face him. “Come inside.”

Finn started, his eyes glancing up and down the hallway. A few people wandered about, going in or out of their rooms. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

“You said we needed to talk, and you aren’t willing to do it anywhere we might be overheard. If my room is unacceptable, then perhaps you’d be more comfortable if we went to yours.”

“As we would still be in the hotel, I don’t see how that would be any more suitable.”

Lucy frowned. “Well, since you don’t have any other place we can go, I don’t see any other options. Why are you living in a hotel, anyway? Wouldn’t you prefer to have a place of your own?”

Finn shrugged. “It’s more convenient. Halford often travels. Living here allows me to come and go as I need without having to worry about a home to care for. My needs are taken care of without having to hire staff.”

“And it means you have nothing to tie you to this place if you decided to leave in a hurry.”

Finn didn’t acknowledge that comment directly, but did answer, “As I said, it’s convenient.”

“Well, fine then. It’s late. I’m tired. Unless you want to speak your peace out here in the open, I don’t see that we have another choice. If you don’t want to come to my room, then I’ll just come to yours.”

An older couple passing by glanced at them, the woman’s mouth puckered disapprovingly. Lucy just widened her eyes and gave the woman her most innocent smile. As soon as they’d passed she muttered, “Nosy old biddy.”

“Nosy or not, she’s the perfect example of why you can’t come to my room,” Finn said. “If you were seen entering or leaving it, your reputation would be in ruins.”

Lucy shrugged. “You are the one with all the dire secrets and an infuriating need for privacy. Keep them to yourself, if you prefer. I’m going to bed. Philip has asked me to accompany him to the theater tomorrow evening and I need to get some rest.”

Lucy turned her back on Finn and entered her room. “Good night,” she said with a smile. Then she closed the door on his glowering face.

…

Finn walked past Lucy’s door. Stopped. Turned around. Walked past it again. Finally, he came to a stop in front of it, his hand raised to turn the knob. It was very late. Or early. They hadn’t returned from the ball until well after midnight and he’d been tossing and turning for an hour at least before finally deciding he couldn’t wait any longer to warn Lucy. She was being extraordinarily stubborn, even for a Richardson, and that was saying something.

He’d thought, hoped, that she’d have given up on him long before now. But the stubborn little minx wasn’t backing down. The problem was, she was right. About everything. He did still love her. So much that the mere sight of her made his chest burn with a bittersweet longing that he’d give almost anything to quench. Almost anything. But not her safety. He didn’t know if he could protect her against Halford and he’d willingly sacrifice anything to keep her safe, including his own heart. He would not fail the woman he loved again.

He turned the doorknob and slipped inside. Looks like Lucy had been expecting him. Either that or she was being unforgivably careless. Lucy sat up the moment he entered. No feigning to be asleep, no pretense of surprise when she looked at him. No. His Lucy never wasted her time with such nonsense. She just gave him a slow smile of welcome.

“Come to join me?” Lucy said, allowing the sleeve of her nightdress to slip off her shoulder as she leaned forward.

Finn froze. Her hair hung loose about her face, trailing down her back. The expanse of pale skin that her gown exposed stretched from her long, elegant neck to just below the jointure of her arm and shoulder. The top of one breast swelled dangerously near the neckline. He took a step toward the bed, his body moving toward her of its own volition.

Lucy’s smile widened and she shifted just a bit, letting the material slip farther down her arm. Finn closed his eyes and grit his teeth. This isn’t what he came here for. He pictured Philip’s face, the leer in his eyes that he was careful to conceal from Lucy but that Finn saw every time the man looked at her. Finn needed to focus on why he’d risked coming to Lucy tonight.

He stalked to the end of her bed and Lucy’s quick intake of breath nearly made him forget everything. He could still feel her lips against his, could still taste her on his tongue. His heart thumped erratically. For half a second, he warred with himself. But then Finn grasped the robe that was lying across the bottom of her bed and tossed it to her.

“I came to talk. I’ll wait until you put that on.”

“I’m not cold.”

Finn glared at her and Lucy bit her lip, though her smile still peeked through. The nightdress covered her from neck to ankle and down to her wrists. Other than the bit of shoulder that was showing she was fairly well hidden under the mass of fabric. But the material was so thin he could see the hint of her skin beneath it. The knowledge that there was nothing else beneath the gown stirred parts of him that were better left alone.

“Lucy,” he said, his voice strained.

“Very well. I’ll admit I’m curious as to what you deem so important that you’d risk being seen in my room.”

She slipped out of bed and shrugged into the robe. “Better?”

Finn gave her a curt nod, but he didn’t relax. With the robe pulled tight across her body and tied at the waist, it merely served to accentuate each delicious curve of her. And it didn’t erase the knowledge that there was very little beneath it. Finn’s hands itched to touch each and every inch of her, and by the smile on her face, Lucy was well aware of that fact.

She smiled and sauntered over to an armchair by the fireplace. He followed, sitting opposite her.

“So?” she prompted. “You said I didn’t understand the danger I was in. Explain it to me.”

Finn leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “You know that when I was in Boston, I was involved with a ring of smugglers.”

“Yes. But your boss was killed when we got Coraline back. You were free of them.”

“No. I’m not free. The organization has a sort of hierarchy. The man your sister killed was merely a manager of sorts.”

Lucy paled. “So who is the leader of this organization?”

“Philip Halford.”

Lucy sat back, her hand to her chest. Her breath quickened a little, though while she looked upset, she didn’t seem particularly surprised.

“How does he manage to run a criminal organization of that size and be such a public figure? Everyone here knows who he is. How does he keep his involvement hidden? More importantly, how in the world did you get mixed up with someone like him?”

Finn sat back. “That’s a very long story.”

Lucy crossed her legs and folded her arms across her chest. “I’ve got nothing but time.”

She gently bounced the foot of her crossed leg, her lips pursed. Every bounce shifted the robe farther so that her leg was exposed to her calf. Finn swallowed and looked away. The woman was going to be the death of him, she really was.

Talking was his only salvation.

“Before I came to work for your sister, I worked in England.”

Lucy nodded. “For that earl or prince or some muckety-muck.”

A ghost of a smile crossed Finn’s lips. “A duke, yes.”

Lucy shook her head. “I find it impossible to envision you in full uniform, serving some titled old bag.”

“I served as a butler in your sister’s household.”

“And you didn’t fit in there either. You aren’t a man that was born to serve others, Finn.”

Finn’s jaw clenched and he looked away, not wanting to admit how close to home she’d struck. Jake had found him the job with the duke, who had been living in San Francisco at the time. Finn hadn’t been in the position to turn down a well-paying legal job and the duke was more than happy to add Finn to the collection of oddities he collected. A butler with tribal tattoos on his face wouldn’t be something that anyone else in the duke’s circles could claim. Finn had found he was good at the job. He hadn’t enjoyed it, per se. As Lucy accurately stated, he wasn’t a man made to serve others and taking orders from the crazy old bird had been trying. Still, he’d been sad when the old man passed away.

“Anyhow, when the duke died I quite suddenly found myself without employment. His heirs didn’t find a tattooed butler ‘appropriate’ for their household.”

Finn said it without bitterness. He’d grown so used to being ostracized for his facial markings, it didn’t bother him anymore. In fact, he felt more uncomfortable hiding them, as he was doing now, then letting them show. But he didn’t have a choice on the matter at the moment. Halford wanted Finn with him and that meant the tattoos had to be covered.

“So they dismissed you,” Lucy said, frowning.

“Yes. I’d expected it, of course. However, they refused to pay me the wages owed me. And that left me in a bit of a bind. I had some money saved, enough to buy passage back to America. But I wanted to save that if I could. So I found a ship’s captain who was willing to give me passage in exchange for working onboard the ship during the journey. Their cook had unexpectedly died and I had a decent hand in the kitchen so the arrangement suited me well.”

Lucy smiled in surprise. “You cook?”

“Those pastries you loved in Boston? That was me.”

Lucy’s grin widened. “That would explain why the one time Brynne requested it after you left, it turned out inedible. That was the last time she asked Mrs. Krause to make them. It never occurred to us that you’d made it.”

“I’m glad it made an impression,” Finn said, returning her smile.

“So,” Lucy said, her smile fading as she brought his attention back to his story, “you became a ship’s cook. Was Philip on the ship? Was that how you met?”

“I’m getting to that part. Hush.”

Lucy grimaced at him but settled back into her chair and waved at him to continue.

“There was a couple aboard, heading to America to proselytize to the wicked heathens they’d heard roamed the country. They spent most of the voyage annoying anyone they could pin down with their dire predictions for anyone they considered ‘ungodly.’ I made a point to avoid them. The captain and crew had no issue with my tattoos. I was relatively sure the same couldn’t be said for this couple and the last thing I wanted to do was cause problems.

“But it is a long voyage and the ship is only so large. I bumped into the woman one night, knocked her right on her backside. She took one look at my face and set to shrieking like I was the devil himself. Her husband came running, along with several members of their group. They beat me to a pulp before the captain could step in to intervene.”

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. “I would have thought they’d have been pleased to find you there. Would have given them some preaching practice.”

Finn shrugged. “The woman got it into her head that I’d attacked her and they didn’t give me a chance to explain what had happened. They kicked up such an uproar about having a murderous heathen aboard that the captain was forced to set me ashore.”

“He abandoned you? Of all the cowardly, double-crossing, traitorous things to do!”

Finn’s heart warmed at her defense of him. “I really couldn’t blame him. They were paying passengers. I was not. Dropping me off lost him nothing but an easily replaced cook, whereas getting rid of them would have meant returning their passage fees. I hold no ill will toward him for his decision.”

Lucy snorted and muttered something under her breath about vengeance, yellow-bellied cowards, and a particularly sensitive part of a male’s anatomy.

Finn chuckled and shook his head. “Yes, well. The captain, and his balls or lack thereof, was the least of my worries. I only had a little money and I was going to have to use what I had to buy passage on the next ship I could find. But before I could do so, I was set upon by thieves. I woke up in a hospital several days later. All my belongings had been stolen.”

“Oh, Finn.”

Finn shrugged. “It happened. There wasn’t anything I could do to change the situation. No use railing against my fate.”

Lucy shook her head, her lips pinched. Then she jumped up, and before he could say anything she’d deposited herself in his lap and wrapped her arms about his neck.

“You may not rail against your fate, but I do. You are a good man, Finnegan Taggart. And you deserve so much better from life.”

Finn sat frozen for a moment, certain he should remove her from his lap, but wanting to do nothing more than wrap his arms about her and hold her there forever.

“Stop fighting it,” Lucy whispered in his ear. She pressed a kiss to his neck and he was lost.

Lucy moaned when Finn crushed her to him, and the sound spurred him on even while in some corner of his mind a warning bell was clanging. He needed to stop this, now, while he still could. His hands reached for her, but instead of pushing her off, they tangled in her hair, angling her face toward him. She met his lips eagerly, opening to him so he could explore every inch of her mouth. She shifted against him, trying to press as much of her soft flesh as she could against him.

“No,” Finn said, dragging his mouth from hers. They both panted in the flickering light of the fire, staring at each other while their heart rates slowly calmed. “Lucy, we can’t do this. I need to go.”

He stood, gently setting her away from him. His heart broke at the mixture of hurt and anger on her face, but he couldn’t do something that they’d both regret. Letting her back into his heart meant drawing her into his world, and that was something he could not do. Not while he worked for Halford. Maybe not ever. He had too many enemies. Too many who would hurt Lucy just to get to him. The image of Rachel bleeding at his feet flashed through his memory and he flinched away from it. The thought of Lucy ending up the same way burned a hole in his heart. He couldn’t live if she came to harm because of him.

“You haven’t told me what happened,” she said, barring his way to the door. “How did you get mixed up with Philip?”

Finn sighed and raked his hand through his hair. “Philip found me in that hospital. He paid for my care, offered to pay for my passage to America.”

“And in return?”

“In return, I’d be sort of an indentured servant. I’d work for him, doing whatever he asked, for a period of time.”

Lucy took a long, slow breath. “For how long?”

“Ten years.”

“And how many of those years do you have left?”

“A year and a half, give or take. I worked for him a short while before I came to your sister in Boston.”

“I’m surprised he let you work for her if you are such an asset to him.”

Finn shrugged. “He was against it at first. But as long as it didn’t interfere with the duties he laid out for me, he was willing to give me a little leeway. And he thought having me in the household of a wealthy socialite might afford him future opportunities he could cultivate. I would never have exploited Brynne for his gain, but he didn’t need to know that.”

Lucy snorted. “Sure. You wouldn’t exploit her; just kidnap her daughter for ransom.”

Anger spiked through him at the reminder. At her for bringing it up and at himself for allowing the situation to happen in the first place. “You know why I did what I did.”

Lucy bit her lip and looked down. “I know.” She glanced back up at him through her lashes and his heart clenched, any anger he’d felt melting away. God, but she was beautiful.

“I know you were just protecting Coraline. I’m sorry.”

He nodded. Her eyes roamed over his face, focusing on his lips for a moment before coming back to meet his gaze.

“Couldn’t you…couldn’t you just disappear? You and I, we could go someplace, somewhere far away. Australia, maybe. Or back to California, to your family, your tribe…”

“No. I can’t ever go back there.”

Lucy frowned but Finn wasn’t ready to delve into that story. “I appreciate your concern on my behalf, but I don’t want you involved. Halford might be a corrupt swine, but he did save my life once. I owe him a debt, and I always pay my debts. Besides, there are always ways around the more disagreeable tasks he sets me. And so far, I haven’t done much except follow him around and make sure no one plunges a knife in his back.”

“So you’ll continue to be at his beck and call for the next two years?”

Finn tried to ignore the sinking feeling that permeated through him when he gazed at Lucy. He’d give anything to run away with her. But she wouldn’t be happy if she were never to see her sisters again. And if Halford ever found them, Lucy would be nothing more than a way to punish Finn. He wouldn’t allow that to happen to her.

He stood and walked to the door.

“Finn, wait.”

He paused with his hand on the knob, his eyes on the ground while he gathered the strength to walk out of the room and leave her there. “I was happy to see you, Lucy,” he said quietly. “I’m glad to know that you are okay, that your family is doing well. But I wish you had never come.”

He glanced up, steeling himself for the pain he’d see in her face at his words. The pain was there, swimming in her eyes with her unshed tears. But mixed with it was an anger that burned hot and fierce. Good. If he could stoke that anger hot enough, maybe it would burn so brightly it would incinerate the last of the love she felt for him. He dreaded what he was about to do. The bile rose from the pit of his stomach but he choked it down and turned to face her.

It would hurt him less if he could tear out his own heart and hand it to her, but if he had to hurt her to keep her safe, he would. Even if doing so would destroy him in the process.

“Halford might play nice for the public, but he isn’t someone to trifle with. Give up this game and go home. You won’t win. I don’t deny that I desire you. You’re a beautiful woman and I’ve been alone a very long time. But it means nothing more than that. I did love you once, but that was a long time ago. Now, all you are is a liability. A thing from my past that I wish had stayed buried. Go home before you destroy both our lives.”

He turned and left her standing there, her tears streaming down her face. The sight would join the other image he had of her, when he’d left her in Boston, both haunting him for the rest of his life. He hurried through the hotel as quickly as he could.

And when he was safe inside his own room, he sank to the floor and let his own tears flow.

Chapter Eight

Lucy stared into the cup of coffee before her. She hadn’t slept at all after Finn had left. The ache he left behind each time he touched her was becoming unbearable. And there were too many thoughts running through her mind, too much breaking her heart. She had never felt so bone weary and soul sick in her life. Considering what she had been through in the last several years, that was saying something indeed.

A knock sounded at her door.

“Enter,” she called.

“The carriage is ready to take us to the school, miss.” Lilah entered and took Lucy’s shawl from the armoire.

Lucy stared into her cup a moment longer. If she had any sense of self-preservation, she’d be on the next train to Boston.

“Thank you, Lilah. I’m afraid I won’t be able to stay too long. Mr. Halford has invited me to the theater tonight.”

A slight purse of the maid’s lips was the only indication that she didn’t approve.

“What is it, Lilah?”

The maid glanced at the door, as if expecting someone to be there listening and then sat down opposite Lucy. “I know it’s not my place, Miz Lucy, but I think it would be best if you didn’t see too much of Mr. Halford.”

Lucy cocked her head. “And why is that?”

“It’s only, well Mr. Halford…he’s…well, he’s…”

“It’s okay, Lilah. Tell me what you know.”

“He’s not a good man. He pretends to be. But deep down, he’s a bad one.”

Lucy turned her back so Lilah could drape the shawl across her shoulders. “I know that.”

Lilah’s mouth dropped open. “Then why do you stay? Why do you keep lettin’ him court you? You should get far away from him.”

“It’s not that simple. I need to help my friend.”

“Mr. Taggart?”

A faint smile crossed Lucy’s lips. “Yes.”

Lilah cocked her head, her eyes narrowed slightly as she scrutinized Lucy. “You still love that man?”

Lucy looked at her maid, surprised at her forwardness. It wasn’t that long ago that the woman had been a slave, subject to all manner of horrid punishments for lesser infractions than talking out of place. But Lilah returned her gaze, her strength and intelligence shining from her deep brown eyes.

“Yes, I do. Very much.”

“And does he love you?”

Lucy gave a mirthless laugh. “Well, that is the question of the day.”

Lilah reached across the table and squeezed Lucy’s hand. “What happened since the ball? You tell Miz Lilah what’s going on. Maybe I can help you figure it out,” she said with a smile.

Lucy looked into Lilah’s kind, concerned eyes and shook her head. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“I’ve always found the beginnin’ a good place to start.”

Lucy laughed and took a deep breath. Then she filled Lilah in on her recent bout with Finn. When she was done, the maid sat back in her chair and shook her head. “Well now, that is a tale indeed. Though it does explain why a man like Mr. Taggart is mixed up with one such as Halford. I’d always wondered. What a pickle.”

“To put it mildly.” Lucy rubbed her forehead, trying to ease the ache behind her eyes. “For the first time in my life, I’m at a loss as to what I should do. When I was younger, it wouldn’t have been a question. I would have marched right into Philip’s room and demand he release Finn from his bargain. Or better yet, I’d simply truss Finn up like a Christmas goose and put him on the first ship to Australia or some other far off place where Philip would never find him. With me going along to keep him company, of course.”

Lilah smiled. “And now?”

Lucy sighed. “Now I’m older. And. . .a little wiser. Rushing into an ill-thought-out plan would help no one. And though I hate to do it, I have given Finn’s wishes in the matter some consideration. I understand why he wants me out of the way. If our positions were reversed, I’d be doing the same thing.”

Lilah thought for a moment, her brow creased. “What is it you truly want?”

“I want to stay and fight for him. Need to fight. I need him. I can’t even imagine going back to my old life, knowing he is here. But…I think I must consider the possibility that the fight might be over. How many times must the man tell me he doesn’t want me, before I listen?”

“Well, at least one more,” Lilah said, smiling.

Lucy laughed. And then groaned. “The thing is, I wholeheartedly believe that he truly doesn’t want me here, and even though I understand his reasoning, that knowledge still destroys a small part of me.”

“Yes, but that’s where the true problem lies, isn’t it? In that reasoning of his. What you need to do is listen to your gut. What does it say, deep down in your bones?”

Lucy looked back into her teacup, stared into the creamy, brown liquid until her eyes blurred. “My instinct fairly screams that he still loves me.”

Lilah nodded. “Then his rejection of you ain’t coming from a lack of love, but from too much of it. He just wants you safe. Can’t fault a man for that. Ain’t that somethin’ worth fighting for? After all, what would you do if you were in his position? Indentured to a criminal who would only see a loved one as leverage to use to his own ends? Who belonged to a family he’d already threatened?”

Lucy met Lilah’s gaze. “I’d do the same thing. My damned level best to get him as far away as possible.”

Lilah nodded. “So.”

“So,” Lucy echoed. “I have a choice to make. Abide by Finn’s wishes and return to Boston, abandoning him to his fate but keeping myself safe. Or stay, and try to help him, free him from the tangled web he’s trapped himself in.”

“And maybes you can free him to find a future with you.”

“Yes.”

“You know what you want to do.”

“Yes.”

“Then why you hemmin’ and hawin’?”

“What are the possible consequences my staying might have for Finn? If Philip ever found out who I really am and what I mean to Finn, we’d both be in even greater danger. Philip has already tried to get his hands on a Richardson once, when he ordered the kidnapping of my niece Coraline. I doubt he’ll have any qualms about using me to gain what he wishes from my family. And the last thing I want to do is give him something else to use to bend Finn to his will.”

“But what if you do nothin’ at all? They’s consequences for everythin’. If you give up now, what happens to your man?”

“If I do nothing…Finn will remain a virtual prisoner for another two years. Or worse. I can’t imagine Finn will ever be allowed to just walk away.”

Lilah didn’t say anything, but sat quietly watching as Lucy came to her decision.

“I can’t allow that. Not if I can do something to help him.”

Lilah thought for a moment and then nodded, coming to a decision of her own. “Well then. I’ll help you.”

“You will?”

“If it will git you away from that devil Mr. Halford any faster, yes.”

“I appreciate it. I could use all the help I could get. But I don’t wish to place you in danger. And I’m not sure what you can do.”

“Don’t you worry none about me. I can take care of myself. As for what I can do to help you, I used to be a part of Mr. Halford’s household,” Lilah said, her lips thinning.

A knot of ice settled in Lucy’s stomach. “You mean you were once his slave.”

Lilah jerked her head in a quick nod. “His late wife brought me with her when she married him. I was in his household ’til the day I was freed. As soon as I was able, I left. But I know his house, I know his servants. If it’s information you want, I can help you get it.”

“I didn’t know that he’d been married.”

Lilah’s lips puckered in a sad frown. “It was many years ago. She died six months after their marriage. And if you ask me, I think she was glad to go.”

Lucy raised her eyebrows and Lilah’s eyes flashed with anger.

“Mr. Halford treated his wife worse than the dirt on his shoes. He married her for her money and once he got that she weren’t no use to him no more. He’d go whorin’ and drinkin’ right under her nose and after the first beating he gave her, she didn’t complain no more. She done her best to stay outta his way, but I still never seen her without a bruise somewhere. Bad enough to be the devil to other folks, and he had plenty evil to spread around. But to his own wife? Like I said, Mr. Halford is a bad man.”

“I agree,” Lucy said, nauseated at the life his poor wife must have lived. “If we could expose him, show the public who he really is and the crimes he’s committed, he’d be arrested. He’d spend the rest of his life in prison.”

Lilah snorted. “I’d prefer he get hanged.”

“Well, I’m sure his crimes merit it. But I’ll settle for getting Finn away from him and ensuring that we won’t be looking over our shoulders for the rest of our lives.”

“Then we’ll just have to come up with a plan.”

Lucy smiled. It was good not to be alone in this fight. “Yes, we will. In the meantime, I’ve been thinking of a few worthy ways I can spend my time. Sitting around this hotel all day has grown a bit wearisome.”

“Oh?”

“I’ve got a few other plans in mind that I’ll need your help with. I hope it’s okay with you, but I’ve hired you away for the time being. While I am here, you’ll be working for me.”

Lilah grinned. “That suits me just fine, Miz Lucy. Just fine, indeed.”

Lucy smiled back at her. She could have used her sisters’ expertise, but they were far away and Lucy had no intention of dragging them into this mess. They both had husbands and children now. It was best if the only neck being risked was her own.

…

From the moment Lucy walked into the school, she was enchanted. Lilah had done a wonderful job making the place as homey as possible. The school was housed in a small, ramshackle shed behind the small home Lilah shared with her sister Ruby and Ruby’s husband and children. There was no furniture in the school, but the walls and floorboards had been recently whitewashed and they’d been able to find an old chalkboard that had been discarded. It was cracked and had a large chunk missing from one corner, but they made do.

Since the students had no slates to use and paper was too expensive to use for sums and alphabet practice, Lilah had had to get a little creative. She’d made several small boxes that she filled with dirt that the students would write in with small twigs and sticks. It was an ingenious solution and Lilah beamed with pride when Lucy told her so. A small bookshelf at the front of the room held a tiny selection of books, but it was clear the modest library was Lilah’s pride and joy.

“I save as much as I can from my wages at the hotel, and there is a lady at the general store who will sell me castoff books when she can spare them. I should have enough to buy another soon.”

Lucy swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. It broke her heart that these people had to scrimp and save for things that she’d always taken for granted. Even in her own days of poverty on her family’s ranch, when they’d been in danger of losing everything to her corrupt sheriff half brother, they’d had books to educate themselves. And a community who didn’t rise up in arms when they tried to do so.

“You’ve done an amazing job here, Lilah. Truly.”

Lilah smiled shyly and looked around at her school with pride.

Lucy walked around the perimeter of the room. The windows were covered with brightly colored fabric that cheered up the bare room considerably. But when Lucy lifted the material to peek outside, she found the window boarded up. She looked questioningly at Lilah, who shrugged.

“I had real pane glass in when the school first started but someone threw a brick through them the first night. After that I used oilpaper but they threw bricks through those as well. The boards aren’t as nice, but they do keep the bricks out,” she said with a sense of resigned humor that broke Lucy’s heart.

“I’d like to help.”

“Any help you’d like to offer will be very much appreciated, miss, I assure you. But…I should warn you. Not everyone here will like you helping us.”

“Well, those who don’t like it can just kiss a plucked chicken’s ass. I’ll do what I please.”

Lilah burst out in shocked laughter and slapped her hand over her mouth. Two small children, their ragged clothing cleanly pressed, peeked shyly around the door.

“And who do we have here?” Lucy asked, smiling at them.

Lilah waved them in. “Come here you two. These are my nephews. Isaiah and Joshua. Say hello to Miz Lucy,” she prompted them.

They both murmured hello but wouldn’t let go of Lilah’s skirts.

Lucy knelt down and held out her hand. “I’m very pleased to meet you both.”

She waited until they got up the nerve to shake her hand, one by one, and then plopped down on the floor next to them, tucking her skirts under her crossed legs.

Their eyes rounded in surprise and she patted the floor beside her. They cautiously sat.

Lucy leaned forward, her elbows on her knees, her chin propped in her hands. “So, boys. I could use your help. Will you help me?”

They looked back and forth between each other and then back at Lucy and nodded.

“Excellent. First of all, what is it that you would most like for your school?”

“Anythin’ at all?” little Joshua asked.

“Anything at all. What would it be?”

They looked at each other again, coming to a silent agreement. “Desks,” said Joshua. “Like the other school up the road.”

“And slates,” said Isaiah.

Joshua screwed up his nose. “No, I like my dirt box. It’s more fun.”

Lucy and Lilah laughed. The boys grinned. They liked this wishing game.

“More books!” Joshua said. “Lilah, she been readin’ us Oliver Twist. It’s awful good.”

“It is indeed,” Lucy agreed with a grin at Lilah.

“I want more stories like that. Lilah says if I try hard, I can maybe read it by myself someday.”

“Well, those all sound like very reasonable requests.”

“Miss?” Isaiah tugged on her sleeve.

“Yes, Isaiah?”

“If we could wish for anythin’, anythin’ in the world, I’d want my daddy to be able to come to school, too.”

The lump was back in Lucy’s throat and she looked up at Lilah.

“Isaiah’s daddy Sam works late in the evenings. He could come in the mornin’s but he don’t want to take up room that the children need.”

“Ah. That sounds like a very noble wish, Isaiah. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Really, miss?”

“Really,” Lucy promised.

“All right, you two.” Lilah bustled them up and shooed them out the door. “Miz Lucy needs to be getting back and you two need to go help your mama.”

“’Bye, Miss Lucy!” they called as they ran out the door.

Lucy laughed and waved back. She gathered up her shawl and followed Lilah back to the carriage, settling inside with a renewed sense of spirit and purpose.

She didn’t know what was going to happen with Finn. She prayed he’d come around eventually. But she was done wallowing alone in her hotel room while she waited for him to see reason. Plans for a new schoolhouse were already flowing through her mind. It felt good to have a worthy cause to fight for again. She was going to build those kids the best schoolhouse they had ever seen, and she’d make sure their parents were able to benefit from it as well.

Lucy was so excited she could scarcely hold still, running through a checklist in her mind of all she needed to do.

“As soon as we get to the hotel, I need to wire my sisters and our bank manager. Once we get the money squared away, we need to find some property I can purchase where we can build the new school. I can build a little house on the property as well. That will be much easier than living in the hotel. It’ll be nice to have my own space again. And once we get the building underway we’ll need to find the supplies we need. Perhaps we can build benches for the students instead of individual desks. The backs of the benches can have small desks built into the backs of them, for the children to write on. That will probably be easier than separate desks. I’m sure there is someone in town who can build those. And then…”

Lucy trailed off, finally catching sight of Lilah’s downturned face. “What is it, Lilah? Oh dear,” she said, a thought just occurring to her. “I’m overstepping, aren’t I? I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to. This is your school and you’ve done a wonderful job with it. I didn’t mean to come in and start making plans for changing everything without even asking you.

“Oh no, Miz Lucy! That’s not it at all. I think your plans are wonderful. Heaven sent! Truly. It’s only…”

“What?”

Lilah pursed her lips. “There’s a lot of folks ’round here that won’t be happy with what you got planned.”

Lucy frowned. “I’ve already told you what I think of those people.”

Lilah gave her a faint smile, but pressed on. “The thing is, it’s one thing for you to help out at our school. Some folks would have been aggrieved enough at that. But what you talkin’ about, building a school for us…well some folks are going to be fit to be tied, no doubt about it. I’m sure your family won’t want you mixed up in somethin’ like this. People down here…they don’t like change. And jus because some law says they have to treat folks differently, don’t mean they listen. I just don’t want you to have to deal with…”

“The things you deal with every day?” Lucy asked with a wry smile.

Lilah gave a short laugh. “Yes.”

Lucy leaned forward and took Lilah’s hand. “First of all, my family will be behind me one hundred percent. It’s sort of a family tradition to take on monumental and unpopular tasks. And secondly, I’m stronger than I look and I don’t give a riled-up skunk’s hind end about anyone’s opinion of what I do with my time and money. I’ll spend both as I see fit and anyone who has a problem with that can—”

“I know. I know. They can go kiss a plucked chicken’s ass.”

Both women laughed and Lilah settled back looking much relieved.

Lucy, however, despite what she said, felt the first qualm of unease break through her excitement. She’d dealt with bigoted, prejudiced people before. But she knew the situation here was unlike anything she’d ever encountered before. The South may have lost the war, but there were many who weren’t taking the loss quietly.

Well, Lucy had never backed down from a fight in her life. She wasn’t about to start now.

Chapter Nine

Thanks to her sisters and a very helpful bank manager, Lucy had the perfect property picked out and purchased within a week. It was amazing what one could accomplish with a ready supply of cash. In short order, Lucy had hired a crew of men Lilah found who were already erecting the walls at both the schoolhouse and the little cottage she was having built for herself on the back of the property.

She stood surveying the construction of her cottage, happiness warming her along with the sun that shone down on the little clearing. The property was picturesque. All green and lush with life, with a little creek that flowed between the clearings where her house and the school would sit. She’d had a little bridge built over the creek and already had visions of children scampering across the lawn on their way to school.

It was wonderful to have a purpose again, to have a real plan for what to do with her life. And to have a place to call her own. She’d done okay in Boston, working with Brynne and Richard at the clinic. But that was their dream, their home. Lucy wanted one of her own.

A touch of sadness invaded her excitement. Her dream would never be complete without Finn. She still held out hope that he’d find a way out from under Philip’s thumb. But until he did, she was happy to have something worthwhile she could do with her life.

A horse cantered to a stop behind her and she didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. It was as if her thoughts had summoned him. He dismounted and came up behind her, close enough that she could feel his presence, though far enough away that no part of him touched her. If she reached her hand out, she could feel him. Instead, she clenched them into fists around the folds of her skirts.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Taggart?”

“This is madness, Lucy. What are you doing?”

“I should think it’s quite obvious.”

Finn released an exasperated breath. “Why do you have to be so stubborn?”

The frustration in his voice brought a smile to her lips. Poor man. Dealing with a Richardson when she’d made up her mind was enough to drive the most patient man insane. She almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“I’m sorry that you do not approve, Finn. But as you are not my husband, or even my lover,” she said, turning to pin him with her gaze, “and you have made it quite clear you desire to be neither, you really have no say in what I do with my life.”

He grabbed her arms and pulled her closer, though he stopped just shy of bringing her against his chest.

The only part of him that touched her were his gloved hands, but that was enough. She could feel the heat of him burning into her flesh. And unless she were very much mistaken, the sudden hunger in his eyes meant he could feel it, too. He released her and Lucy had to bite her tongue to keep from crying out.

“A lot of folks around here aren’t happy about this school of yours,” he said.

“I have no interest whatsoever in what these bigoted tyrants think. Lilah’s students have every right to get an education and if their community isn’t willing to provide them with one, I certainly have the time, money, and desire to do so.”

“Bad things happen to those who rock the boat here.”

Lucy pulled herself from his grasp. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this from you, of all people. I’m not some coward who goes running scared because a few overindulged, arrogant prats want to keep living their deluded lives. The war is over. They lost. They need to start getting used to the new way the world works.”

“That’s what you aren’t understanding. The war never ended for a lot of these people. They aren’t happy about the changes that are being made and they have a nasty habit of retaliating against those who don’t agree with them. I just want you to be safe.”

Lucy waved him off. “I’ll be perfectly fine. It’s just a school, for heaven’s sake. What harm is there in teaching people to read and write?”

“To most people, nothing. And I’m sure there are some in the community who admire what you are doing here. It’s those who don’t that I’m worried about.”

“Oh, what can they do? Let the old windbags stand on their stoops and bluster about. What harm can they do?”

“More than you can imagine. I mean it, Lucy. This isn’t a game.”

“You keep telling me that, like I’m a child who doesn’t understand what you’re saying. I know that there will be some who won’t like this. But as long as I stay out of their way, I don’t see why they’d get in mine. The school is on my private property, and like it or not, I have every right to build it, so they can complain all they’d like. I’m not playing any game, Finn. I came here to find you, yes. And I haven’t given up on us. But I have no desire to sit in the hotel, biding my time until you get it through your thick head that we belong together.

“You wanted me to move on with my life? Well, I’ve moved on. I’ve stayed away from you as you requested. This has nothing to do with you. I’ve found something worthwhile to do with my time. People I can help. And nothing you say is going to make me change my mind about it.”

Finn’s eyes darted around the clearing, taking in the schoolhouse, and Lucy’s small cottage, with a growing expression that Lucy could only describe as panic. What was wrong with the man?

“What if I agreed to leave with you? Tonight? Would you go?”

Lucy sucked in her breath, her heart pounding so fiercely she thought it might jump from her chest. It was her greatest wish. She wanted to be with him more than anything. But did he truly mean it? She searched his face, looking for some sign that he might be insincere. But his face was carefully blank, except for the intensity of his gaze.

Then a cheer went up as the last wall of the schoolhouse was hammered into place. Lucy looked over Finn’s shoulder at Isaiah and Joshua who were jumping up and down, huge grins spread on their faces.

“I…I can’t just leave…I promised…”

“You don’t need to be here to see the completion. The school is nearly built. You could leave enough to supply it, run it. Leave Lilah in charge. Come away with me.”

Lucy slapped her arms against her sides in exasperation. “Why, Finn? Why now? I’ve been trying to get you to leave ever since I came here and you’ve refused, broken my heart over and over again, told me that you didn’t want me here. And now that I’ve found a purpose for my sorry life, found something I can find joy in without you, you want me to just abandon it? I can’t do that! I can’t just walk away from this, from these people.”

A few of the builders stopped and looked at them curiously. Finn grabbed Lucy’s hand and towed her into the trees until they were out of sight of prying eyes.

“I thought you wanted this. Isn’t this what you’ve been begging me for since you came?”

Lucy took a deep breath through her nose, trying to keep her composure. “Yes, it’s what I wanted, but you aren’t doing it for the right reason.”

Finn threw his hands up. “You can’t be serious! I’m trying to give you what you want and now you’re changing your mind.”

“I’m not changing my mind.”

“But you just said—”

“I said you were doing it for the wrong reason. Yes, I want us to be together, any way that is possible. And if that meant running away together, then so be it. But I don’t want that if the only reason you are doing it is out of some misguided sense of chivalry. I don’t want to be having this same conversation in some remote destination the next time something dangerous happens. I don’t want you running off with me just because you think it’ll keep me safe. I want you to want to be with me because you love me.”

Lucy heard the pleading note in her voice and she hated it. But it just felt too cruel to be offered what she wanted most at the expense of someone else’s well-being. She couldn’t just abandon Lilah and her students now. She couldn’t let them down, not when she promised she’d help them. And besides, what Finn offered her wasn’t really what she wanted either. It was like being handed a piece of fool’s gold and being told it was real. It might look pretty and even dupe those who should know better, but it was still just a worthless rock. Lucy wanted better. They both deserved better.

“Do you love me, Finn? Do you want to run off with me because you can’t stand to be away from me anymore? Or are you just saying anything to get me to leave town? Because if it’s the latter, then—”

Finn’s mouth descended, effectively cutting off anything she’d been about to say. She thought for a split second about pushing him away, and then he grasped her chin and angled her head up, giving him better access to her lips. A small moan escaped Lucy’s throat and Finn surged against her, pressing her back against a tree, imprisoning her body while he ravished her mouth.

“Miz Lucy! Miz Lucy!”

Lilah’s voice rang through the clearing and Finn raised his head, his breath coming in heated pants that mingled with her own. She had his lapels crushed in her fists and she forced herself to let him go. Lilah’s footsteps grew nearer and Lucy pushed away from the tree, reaching up to pat her hair and brush the twigs and leaves from her clothing.

“Miz Lucy?”

“Here, Lilah,” Lucy called, resolutely keeping her gaze from Finn as she left the shelter of the trees.

“Oh, Miz Lucy, there you are.” The maid’s shrewd gaze looked back and forth between Finn and Lucy, but she didn’t say anything about finding them hiding in the shadows.

“What is it, Lilah?”

“Mr. Halford’s carriage just pulled up. He’s lookin’ for you.”

“Thank you, Lilah. I’m coming.”

The maid nodded and hurried back toward the schoolhouse where Philip stood waiting. Lucy went to follow but Finn grabbed her hand.

“We’ll talk about this later.”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Finn. I can’t leave just yet, not when we’ve just started.”

“Lucy…”

Lucy shook her head. “You say you want to leave to keep me safe. Well I want to stay to keep you safe. If we run now, we’ll always be running. I want to be with you, I really do. But I don’t want to be looking over our shoulders for our whole lives. If you are ready to talk about a plan to get you free of him, let me know. I want a future with you. One that doesn’t involve Philip hunting you down.”

Finn’s eyes bore into hers, but he didn’t say anything.

Lucy gently pulled her hand from his grasp. “If you’ll excuse me, my school has its first visitor.”

She walked away, praying she was doing the right thing. Lucy glanced back at her little cottage, at Finn standing in the clearing, watching her with longing in his eyes. Her happily ever after. But if she wanted the fairy tale, she would have to get rid of the wicked king first.

…

Finn watched her walk away, toward Halford. The urge to grab her and run was so great he had to close his eyes to shut out the sight. It didn’t help that she was right. Leaving now would remove them from immediate danger, but they’d always be looking over their shoulders, always waiting for their pasts to catch up to them. He wanted better for her, better for them.

Which meant he needed to find a way to get Halford removed from the picture. A difficult task. If he could just kill the man, their problems would be solved. Finn didn’t feel the slightest qualm at the grim thought. The man deserved to die for the crimes he had committed, that he continued to commit. And Finn would do worse than murder to keep Lucy safe. The problem, well, one of them, aside from whatever lingering moral guilt that might worm its way into his heart, was that Halford was a well-known and well-respected member of society. His disappearance wouldn’t go unnoticed.

Finn frowned, watching Lucy escort Philip around the work site. She kept her distance from him, subtly pulling from his grasp when he’d reach to take her elbow or place a hand on her back. At least she had taken his warning about the man seriously. But she couldn’t help the excited animation in her face as she pointed out the features the schoolhouse would boast. She was pleased with her project, and had every right to be. Finn was immensely proud of her, and impressed at the strength of her character in the face of the opposition she must know she faced from the community.

What made him frown was the look on Halford’s face when Lucy wasn’t looking. The sneer of disgust when he looked at the workers, at the children. The very people Lucy intended to teach. When Lucy faced him, he was careful to show only polite interest.

Lucy caught his eye and sent him a look that let him know she was very well aware of Halford’s true feelings. That gave him some comfort. But not much.

No, if Finn wanted his freedom from Halford, he’d have to reveal the man for who he really was. A lecherous, black-hearted, corrupt piece of filth that didn’t deserve to walk down the same street as respectable folk, let alone be elected to lead them.

The other problem was that Halford was a master in covering his tracks. He might hold all the strings, but he had hundreds of puppets doing his bidding. And he was very, very good at making sure none of those strings led back to him. In fact, a great many of them would lead back to Finn himself. So any attempt to bring down Halford could effectively take Finn down as well.

Finn was willing to make the sacrifice if there was no other way to keep Lucy safe. But if he could find a way to get rid of Halford and leave himself free to be with Lucy, he wanted to find it.

In the meantime, he’d keep watch over her as he’d done since the moment she’d arrived back in his life. And he’d pray to the God he wasn’t sure he believed in to keep her safe.

Chapter Ten

The school hadn’t even been open for a day when the first incident occurred. Lucy had welcomed all the children who could attend bright and early. Many worked and couldn’t attend, but Lucy hoped they’d come at night with their parents. Finn had agreed to keep coming at night to help teach. Lucy assumed they’d have a larger crowd in the evenings, once work and chores were done.

The first morning, Lucy had been thrilled to find twenty students on the school’s steps. Mostly children, but a handful of the mothers wished to stay as well. Lucy welcomed them inside, her heart near to bursting as they took in the large schoolroom, set up with its rows of benches, large chalkboard set up in the front, a desk for Lucy, and even some pictures and maps that Lucy had found to adorn the walls.

Her new students entered eagerly and sat in their places, reverently touching the slates and new pieces of chalk in their special holders on the backs of the benches. The absolute best part of the morning was when Isaiah and Joshua walked in, holding the hand of their father. He shyly took a seat in the back of the room, Isaiah beaming next to him on the bench. Joshua ran over to the brand-new bookshelf that sat between two large windows. He ran a hesitant finger along the spines of the books that filled the shelves.

“Are these for us, miss?”

Lucy had to swallow a few times before she could speak past the lump in her throat. “They sure are.”

His smile was so wide the rest of his face almost disappeared. Lucy turned her back and dabbed at her eyes and then took her place at the front of the room. They spent a very productive morning going over some of the basics of the three R’s and Lucy was delighted to find that many of her students had at least a cursory knowledge of how to read and write. They were all bright and eager to learn, which made her job easy. A few of the adults left after an hour or so, but most of her students were able to stay until she released them at noon.

Lucy went about straightening the room, putting books back on the shelf, erasing the chalkboard, and getting everything ready for that evening’s classes. She’d just walked past one of the windows when something crashed through it, shattering one of the panes. Lucy jumped, her hand pressed to her racing heart, and turned to see what it was.

A brick, with the word hore scratched onto it. Lucy hurried to the window and looked out, hoping she could catch who’d done it. A few horses were riding away, but they were too far for Lucy to make out who they were.

Lucy glared down at the brick in her hand. “Ignorant jackasses. The least they could do is spell it right.”

Lilah rushed in. “Miz Lucy, you okay?” She took in the broken window and the brick in Lucy’s hand and shook her head, her lips pursed in resigned anger. “I told you, miss. Folks ’round these parts ain’t too happy with what you doing here.”

Lucy placed the brick on the bookcase and went to the small closet at the back of the room for a broom and dustpan. “They don’t have to be happy about it,” she said, sweeping up the glass. “I have every right to do as I please on my own property, and if I catch them on it again, I’ll make sure they know that I won’t stand for their harassment. They should be ashamed of themselves!”

Lilah gave her a sad smile, tinged with pity that sent a fresh rush of anger through Lucy. Not directed at Lilah, but at the people who put that look on her face. That look that said that she’d dealt with much worse and would do so again because that was just her lot in life. Lucy swept the glass into the dustpan that Lilah held for her, even more determined to make her school a success. She wouldn’t let those cowards win.

…

When Finn walked into the school, he immediately saw the broken pane of glass. Lucy’s stony face left no opening for questions, but Finn caught her eye, his brow raised. She nodded at him, gave him a small smile. She was okay. For now. But he was not. The incidents would get worse, he knew.

He hated it when he was right.

Over the next few weeks, small incidents continued to occur. Rocks through the windows. Filthy words painted on the side of the schoolhouse. Once, someone broke down the door and spread manure all over the benches. The worse the situation became, the closer of an eye Finn tried to keep on her. Lucy didn’t make this easy. She refused his help nearly every time he offered. She wouldn’t let him accompany her to the market, though even that simple task had taken on a sinister tone. The shop owner who’d once treated Lucy with kindness and respect now barely looked her in the eye, slamming her purchases onto the counter with barely concealed contempt. It was all Finn could do to keep from marching into the shop and throttling the man. Along with everyone else who uttered snide comments or turned hateful gazes her way.

A few acquaintances remained friendly, but not one commended her for what she was doing. Not one offered to help. And not one person defended her from the malicious remarks more and more people aimed in her direction.

Yet each time something happened, Finn saw Lucy’s resolve strengthen, her determination to make the school a success, and make the community accept it, grow stronger. She walked down the streets with her head held high, insisting on fighting her own fights, and refusing to allow him to retaliate in any way. She did her best to ignore the cruel treatment that grew more hateful by the day and she showed up to teach each morning with renewed energy and vigor. By God, the woman amazed him. She was extraordinary, pure and simple. But she was human, and he knew the continuous harassment was wearing on her.

One night he entered the school to find that the window had yet again been broken. Lucy had stubbornly replaced each window that had been shattered, but if this kept up, there wouldn’t be any glass left in all of North Carolina. After the last incident, Finn had installed sturdy shutters over the windows, but those apparently hadn’t helped. The hooligans had just darted in during the dark of night, broken the shutters into kindling, and then went to work on the windows. Finn also worried that after a time these simple scare tactics wouldn’t be enough for the perpetrators. Soon, they might decide that more drastic measures were necessary. Lucy still pigheadedly believed that they would back down once they saw she wasn’t going anywhere. Finn knew better. And he was terrified for her. It was happening again. The woman he loved was in danger and his failure to save her from it gnawed at him like a starving beast.

He didn’t mention it until the last of their students had left for the night. By the time he’d said good night to the last student and closed the schoolhouse door, his emotions were at a boiling point. Lilah looked back and forth between the two of them and slipped out the door with a hurried wave of good-bye.

Lucy grabbed the broom and set herself to sweeping the floor though there was hardly a speck on it. Finn watched her for a moment but she resolutely kept her gaze on her task. The silence stretched so thick between them he could scarcely breathe. When he could stand it no more, he marched to her and grasped the broom.

She glanced at him then, just long enough to shoot him a glare that should have incinerated him on the spot. Then she let go of the broom and tried to walk away, but Finn grabbed her arm.

“I don’t want to talk about it, Finn. It was just a stupid prank.”

“How many times has this happened now? They aren’t going to stop, Lucy. And next time—”

“You don’t know that there will be a next ti—”

Glass splintered and fiery droplets rained down on them as a wine bottle with a lit rag sailed over their heads and crashed into one of the benches behind them. The liquid in the shattered bottle splattered, igniting the bench and floor.

“No!” Lucy screamed. She ripped the curtains down from the window and began beating at the fire. Finn did the same, smothering the flames until they went out, leaving the bench and floor charred.

Finn ran for the door, but whoever had thrown the bottle had fled. “Miserable little cowards,” he muttered, adrenaline coursing through his system so fiercely his heart was about to jump from his chest. He searched the tree line, watching for any sign of movement, but there was none. The clearing was dark and silent and Finn was suddenly acutely aware of how alone he and Lucy were.

He wished she’d stayed in the hotel, surrounded by people, where he could look after her. They weren’t far from town; she’d wanted to be close enough that her students wouldn’t have any difficulty getting to her. But they were far enough away that no one would hear her scream if she needed help.

He went back inside, determined to talk some sense into her, but the sight of her stopped him short. She’d grabbed a bucket and scrub brush and was trying to clean the charred surface of the bench and floor. She plunged a blistered hand into the bucket and then went back to scrubbing, ignoring the tears that streamed down her face.

“Lucy,” he said, quietly sinking down beside her. She stopped scrubbing but she didn’t look up.

“Lucy,” he said again, reaching over to take the brush from her hands.

“No.” She jerked away from him and went back to scrubbing. “I don’t want them to see this. When they come tomorrow. I don’t want them to know.”

He reached over again and grabbed the brush before she could jerk it away. “Let me.”

She looked up at him, the sorrow in her eyes breaking his heart.

“I’ll do it. You rest a moment.”

She waited until he started scrubbing before she slumped back against a bench, staring at the floor, though he didn’t think she saw it. Her hands lay carefully in her lap. He stopped scrubbing and gently took her hand in his, his gut clenching at the blisters on her skin.

“Just a moment,” he said, going to her desk and grabbing the vase of flowers she’d set there. He took it into the yard, dumped it, and refilled it with clean, cool water from the pump near the door. When he brought it back in, Lucy was still sitting staring at the floor but she’d stopped crying. He took that as a good sign.

Finn set the vase next to her and eased her hand into the water. Lucy let out a sigh and closed her eyes.

“Thank you,” she murmured.

He understood why she wanted to keep the incident from the students, and he even agreed with it. But he hated to see her there, hurt and disheartened. However, he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t let him focus on her until the task was done, so he set about putting the room to rights as quickly as he could. The leftover whitewash sat in the closet and he pulled that out and touched up the scorch marks and made sure all the broken glass was swept up and disposed of.

As soon as everything was touched up and readied for the next day, Finn knelt beside Lucy. She hadn’t said a word while he’d gone about cleaning up. It worried him. Lucy was never at a loss for words. He cupped her cheek, turning her face until she looked at him.

“Why are they doing this?” she asked quietly. “We aren’t harming anyone here. Why do they care if a bunch of former slaves can read and write? What possible difference does it make to them?”

Finn shook his head. “I wish I could tell you, love. I suspect it’s easier to not say anything, to look the other way. Or to go along with those who make the loudest noise. That’s why good people like you are needed in the world.”

Finn smiled down at Lucy, warmth spreading through him when she returned it with a small one of her own.

“Come on, lass. Let’s get you to bed.”

Finn stood and pulled Lucy to her feet, then swept her into his arms, ignoring her squeaked protest.

“Hush. None of that. Just let me take care of you for once, will you?”

Lucy’s forehead crinkled as she looked at him, as if he were a puzzle she couldn’t quite figure out. But she relaxed in his arms and allowed him to carry her to her little house behind the school.

By the time he’d gotten to her front door, he was huffing and puffing a little more than he cared to admit. The bright side was that it brought a smile to Lucy’s face, albeit a small one.

“Are your muscles failing you, Mr. Taggart?” she asked, one corner of her mouth turned up in a saucy grin.

“Ock, my muscles are as brawny as always. Perhaps you’ve put on a few pounds since last I saw you.”

Lucy gasped and slapped at him with her good hand, but a bit of her usual twinkle had returned to her eyes.

She helpfully unlatched the door for him and he entered, kicking it closed behind him. He looked around, having never been in her home. He could tell immediately who dwelled there. The room had a small sitting area on one side, an overstuffed chair pulled close to the fireplace and a small sofa angled to catch both the warmth of the hearth and the eye of whomever sat before the fire. A dining table, chairs, and the kitchen took up the rest of the space.

All was clean and tidy, homey but uncluttered, decorated in shades of yellows, browns, and reds. Organized to the point of obsession, with everything in its proper place, yet the space was inviting and welcoming, like Lucy was herself.

He could picture himself in this home. Sitting before the fire in that big chair, Lucy bustling about in the kitchen. Or better yet, settled in his lap, her fingers twining in his hair, tilting her head up for his kiss.

Finn cleared his throat, trying to erase the image from his mind. Now wasn’t the time. Not yet. Not until he was free.

“Bedroom?”

“In the back,” Lucy said, pointing to a door off the kitchen he hadn’t noticed.

Finn carried her into her room and placed her on the large four-poster bed. Lucy sank into her pillows with a grateful sigh and Finn turned to fill the blue-and-white china basin from its matching ewer. He carried it carefully to the bed and Lucy sank her hand into it without prompting from him.

Her breath hissed out and she closed her eyes.

“We need to put something on that. Have you any salve?”

Lucy shook her head and Finn frowned at her.

“Stop frowning at me,” she said, though she hadn’t opened her eyes.

“Know me that well, do you?”

She cracked open one lid and peeked at him. “Yes, I do. Now don’t go busting my britches. I haven’t lived here long and I spend most of my time at the school. I haven’t had the chance to stock all the necessaries just yet. Lilah will have some. She’s just down the lane a ways.”

Finn stood. “I’ll go and fetch some.”

Lucy grabbed his hand before he could leave. “Wait. Don’t go just yet.”

All playfulness had left her voice, leaving her sounding young and scared.

“I won’t be gone long, I promise. But we need to get something on that hand.”

“I know.”

But she didn’t let go. Her thumb rubbed across his knuckles in slow, even strokes and a kick of heat hit him in the lower gut.

“Lucy…”

“Don’t go, Finn. Please. Stay with me.”

Finn hesitated. He knew it wasn’t a good idea. Even after the night they’d been through, all he could think about was that they were alone, in her bedroom. And he wanted to do much more than comfort her.

But one look in those deep brown eyes of hers and he was lost. He took the bowl of water away, soaked a cloth, and gently wrapped her hand and then settled back beside her with a sigh, putting his arm about her. She snuggled into his chest, hanging onto his shirt with her good hand as though she were afraid if she didn’t keep a good grip on him, he’d flee.

“They’re going to keep coming back, aren’t they?” she asked.

Finn’s arm tightened about her. “Yes. I think they will.”

“It’s all so senseless! What harm is there in educating them? It’s not hurting anyone. It’s not changing anything that hasn’t already been changed.”

Finn wrapped his arms around Lucy and pulled her back into his embrace, rocking her, stroking her hair. “I know, love. I know. I’ve watched it since before the war. And it hasn’t changed much since then. I think it will be a very long time before things do change.”

He kissed the top of her head, her forehead, tilted her head up and kissed her nose. “But it’s people like you that will help make that change happen. Good, kind, strong people who are willing to stand up for what’s right.”

“It doesn’t feel like enough.”

Finn kissed her gently, his heart swelling with pride for the amazing woman he held. “You amaze me, do you know that?”

He kissed her again, his lips lingering longer. The tension slowly melted out of Lucy and her lips opened beneath his. Finn groaned, his tongue plunging into the heat of her mouth, his hand slipping into her hair. Lucy wrapped her arm around his shoulders. She slipped farther down the pillows, pulling him with her until he leaned over her.

He knew he should stop this. Letting this get out of hand would only hurt Lucy more, and he’d vowed to keep that from happening.

Lucy’s tongue darted out and met his. Her hand fisted in his shirt and she pulled him closer with a little sigh.

That sound was his undoing. Finn stretched out beside her, nudging his leg between hers so he could lay half on top of her. Lucy was busy trying to unbutton his shirt with one good hand while he was equally busy trying to unbutton the high-necked collar of her bodice. Their breathing echoed in the quiet room and Finn’s heart pounded so fiercely he thought it might burst.

He dragged his lips away from hers so he could taste her throat, his lips trailing to the small bit of flesh he’d exposed.

A knock at the front door paralyzed him. Finn and Lucy stared at one another for a second and then there was another knock.

They sat up, hurriedly putting each other to rights. Finn slid off the bed and went to see who it was.

“Miz Lucy?” He could hear Lilah calling through the door. “Miz Lucy, you there?”

Finn opened the door.

Lilah stared up at him, her mouth hanging open. “Oh. Mr. Taggart. I…I didn’t expect to see you…”

“Lucy is in the back. She’s injured her hand and is resting.”

Lilah’s mouth snapped shut, her eyes flashing fury. “I heard that ruckus, all them boys leaving. Hoped nothin’ had happened, that they were just out pitchin’ a fit like usual. I checked the schoolhouse. You all did a good job cleaning up whatever happened, but it’s clear something went on there tonight. Is Miz Lucy okay?”

“Yes, come on in. She’s burned her hand, but it isn’t too bad. It could use some salve though.”

Lilah smiled and patted the basket hanging on her arm. “I thought I’d best bring this along just in case. I know Miz Lucy ain’t got much here and I thought if anythin’ had happened, she might be needin’ a bit of something.”

Finn smiled at the woman, pleased that Lucy had someone like Lilah looking after her.

“Just go on back. I know she’ll be glad to see you.”

“Ain’t you coming?”

“No, I…I better be going. If you could make my excuses…”

“Nuh-uh, no sir. I’ve got enough excuses of my own. If you goin’ to be slippin’ out the back door like a thief in the night, you can just go along and make your own excuses.”

Lilah stared him down, her hands on her hips, until Finn smiled. “You’re right, of course. I’ll just go, uh, make those excuses then.”

“That’s more like it,” Lilah said, planting herself on the sofa. “I’ll just wait here ’til you’re done.”

“That’s not necessary…”

But Lilah just waved him off. “Go on now.”

Finn chuckled and went back into the bedroom.

Lucy was up, tidying her hair. “Was that Lilah I heard?”

“Yes,” Finn said, standing in the doorway. He was afraid if he got too close, he’d throw her on the bed and finish what they had started, Lilah or no Lilah. And he was running out of excuses to keep from doing just that.

Lucy smiled at him and his heart kicked up a few beats. Oh yes. He’d just have to work harder to get out from under Halford’s thumb. Because staying away from Lucy was becoming intolerable.

“I must go,” he told her.

Lucy came closer, wrapped her arms about his waist, and rose up on tiptoe to kiss him. He hesitated only a second before leaning down to meet her lips. The sweet taste of her on his tongue nearly drove him to folly. He wanted nothing more than to crush her to him, mark her as his in every way possible. Instead, he gently eased from her embrace and stepped away.

“I won’t be able to come to the school for a few days. Halford has me playing errand boy again. Can you stay out of trouble for that long?”

Lucy snorted. “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not making any promises.”

Finn forced a laugh though he found it far from funny. “Well, I suppose that will have to do.”

He gave her a little bow and turned to go.

“Finn.”

He looked back at her.

“You stay out of trouble, too.”

He thought about making a funny quip, but her face was deadly serious.

He nodded. “I will. I’ll see you soon, Lucy.”

“Until then.”

She gave him a small smile and he turned and left her standing alone.

Chapter Eleven

Lucy’s hope that the persecution would stop grew over the next two weeks. There hadn’t been another incident since the night of the firebomb. Perhaps the miscreants had finally realized that she wasn’t going anywhere and had given up. A small thread of worry always stayed with her, but as each day passed peacefully, Lucy began to think the struggle might be over.

A far greater worry in her mind was Finn. She hadn’t seen him since that night. Lilah had brought word from the hotel that he hadn’t been back, so he must still be on whatever mission Philip had sent him on, and the thought of what he might be doing frightened her.

She and Lilah were nearly finished straightening the schoolhouse for the night, but Lucy had no desire to go back to her little cottage all alone. If she had to spend one more evening with nothing to do but worry about Finn, she’d go mad.

“Well, looks like we’re about finished here,” she said, sounding more disappointed that their work was done than she should be.

“My sister’s got a big pot of fish stew boilin’, if you’d care to join us for supper. I know it’s probably nothin’ like what you’re used to but you’re welcome to it.”

Lucy smiled, gratitude at the woman’s kindness and intuition flowing through her. “I’ve fought off coyotes for a pail of burned beans. Believe me, I’m used to some pretty awful things.”

Lilah’s mouth dropped open and Lucy laughed. “Oh, Lilah dear, I could tell you some stories. I wasn’t always as fortunate as I am now.”

“I’d like to hear some of those stories,” Lilah said, grinning at her.

“Well, I’d be honored to join you for supper. And perhaps afterward, I’ll regale you with the sordid tales of my past.”

The women walked out the door laughing, Lucy’s heart lighter than it had been since Finn left.

They spent a very pleasant evening with Lilah’s family. Lucy’s belly was pleasantly stuffed with the most delicious stew she’d ever eaten and she was lounging lazily by the fire in their small house when Isaiah bounced over to her.

“Miz Lucy, tell us a story!”

“Yes. Maybe one of them sordid tales you mentioned,” Lilah said, smiling.

Lucy laughed. “Hmm, well let’s see.” She racked her brain for something she could tell them that would be appropriate for children’s ears. She had had quite a few adventures in her bandit days. Perhaps she should just tell them the beginning.

“Once upon a time,” she said, giving Lilah a little wink, “there were three sisters who lived in a beautiful place called California. They lived on a ranch with their mother and father who loved them very much. Sadly, their parents died. But they weren’t all alone. They had two very loyal servants named Carmen and Miguel who stayed to help the sisters.

“But their half brother was the sheriff of their small town, and he was an evil, greedy man. He wanted to take the ranch from the sisters because he thought there was a gold mine on the property. He also loved power, and he ran the town with an iron fist. The sheriff terrorized the townspeople and taxed them beyond their endurance.”

“Oh no,” Joshua gasped. “What did the sisters do?”

Isaiah shushed him and Lucy smiled. “The sisters were very young. But knew they had to do something to protect their ranch, and their town, from the evil sheriff. So the middle sister, Cilla, came up with a plan. They would just have to steal back all the money that the evil sheriff had taken from the people. They would have to disguise their identities. So they started a story about a bandit named Blood Blade, who roamed the trails raiding unsuspecting stagecoaches and travelers. But the bandits never harmed the innocent townspeople. They only stole from the evil sheriff and his henchmen. And everything they took, they gave back to the townspeople. They helped them with food and supplies also, leaving gifts for the people who were in need of help.”

“Did they ever get caught?” Joshua asked.

“One of the sisters was caught once, but the others were able to free her. And after years of fighting the evil sheriff, they finally defeated him for good and found a good man to be the new sheriff.”

“Did they all live happily ever after?”

Lucy’s smile faded a bit. “Almost. Two of the bandit sisters got their happily ever afters. One is still searching for hers.”

“Will she get it?” Isaiah asked.

“I hope so,” Lucy said, forcing her smile back. She glanced at Lilah, only to find the other woman staring out the window.

“What is it, Lilah?”

Lilah started and looked at Lucy. “Oh, prob’ly nothing. I just thought…” She glanced at the children.

“Never mind for now. You two,” she said to the kids, “off to bed with you. Tell Miz Lucy thank you for the story.”

The boys jumped up, gave Lucy hugs along with their thanks, and scampered off to bed. Lucy went to join Lilah by the window.

“What is it?” she asked again.

“Look at the sky.” Lilah pointed west, up the lane a bit where the schoolhouse and Lucy’s cottage sat. The sun had set and the sky was dark, but there seemed to be a faint glow still. Lilah pushed the window open and the evening breeze brought the distinct smell of smoke.

“The school!” Lucy tore from the house, running toward the schoolhouse, Lilah close on her heels.

They closer they got to the school, the brighter the glow became. The stench of smoke grew thicker and Lucy ran harder, her heart in her throat. She already knew what she’d find when they rounded the bend onto her property. But she held out hope until the last second that she’d be wrong.

Lucy skidded to a halt in the school courtyard. Because what she saw was far worse than anything she’d imagined. The school itself was fine. It sat in its clearing, untouched. But in the small courtyard in front of it stood a cross, the flames that engulfed it throwing menacing shadows on the whitewashed walls of the school…and on the semicircle of white linen clad men.

There were ten of them, seated on their horses, their faces completely covered by white hoods, with nothing but two eyeholes cut into them. The horses pawed the ground, snorting their dislike at being so close to the burning cross. Lucy didn’t blame them. The sight sickened her. Her head swam with the force of the hate she felt for the cowards before her. The so-called men who were so terrified of change that they had to terrorize two unprotected women.

“Who are you?” Lucy called out, reaching an arm out to keep Lilah behind her. She began edging toward the school’s door.

“They’re Klan,” Lilah whispered, the terror in her voice igniting a deep burning fury in Lucy’s gut.

“Who are you?” she asked again, almost screaming the words. “You have no right to be here. This is my property and I’m telling you all to leave. Now!”

“It’s you who have no right to be here, you damn Yankee bitch,” one of the men said, though Lucy had no idea which.

“This is my property,” Lucy said again. “You are trespassing.”

“They won’t listen,” Lilah whispered, tugging on Lucy’s arm. They were close to the schoolhouse door now.

“What you are doing here is an abomination,” shouted another man.

They’d reached the bottom step that led into the school. The horses were tossing their heads, shifting and pawing at the dirt, picking up on their riders growing agitation.

“You’re a traitor to your own kind!” yelled another.

“Get inside,” Lucy said to Lilah, shoving her up the stairs.

“You can’t hide! Those walls won’t protect you! We are here to bring you to justice!”

Lucy stumbled after Lilah, slamming the door shut behind her. She leaned against it for half a second, trying to get her furiously beating heart under control. Lilah sank onto a bench, her tear-filled eyes wild as the men’s hateful shouts from outside carried to them through the broken windows of the school.

Lucy pushed away from the door and marched to the closet.

“What are you doing?” Lilah asked as Lucy wrenched the door open and stood on tiptoe, reaching her arm back as far as she could onto the shelf inside.

Lucy pulled out a shotgun and then reached up again for the ammunition. “I’m not letting anyone terrorize me on my own property. Let alone a bunch of cowards running around in their night sheets.”

Lucy loaded the gun and marched to the window, ripping down the new curtains she’d recently hung to cover the broken windows.

“Lucy, no!”

But Lucy already had the gun aimed through one of the broken panes. “Don’t worry,” she assured the other woman. “That story I told your nephews wasn’t just a fanciful bedtime story. I could shoot the rattle off a snake from a much farther distance than this. I can certainly shoot the hood off a yellow-bellied weasel or two.”

Lucy yelled out the window. “I’m giving you until the count of three to get off my property, or I’ll be forced to defend myself!”

A smattering of laughter let her know what they thought of her threats. Lucy smiled. It was so much fun when an enemy underestimated her.

“One!”

The horses shifted a bit, the men looking back and forth at each other. None of them pulled a weapon. Lucy doubted anyone had even brought one. Men, especially egotistical and arrogant men like those contaminating her yard, rarely expected a fight from those they considered weaker or inferior to themselves.

“Two!”

“I think she might mean it, Jed.”

“No names!” another one hissed. His words were quiet but Lucy’s blood ran cold. She knew that voice.

She focused on him. On his build, the way he sat his horse, his expertise at handling his animal.

“Why that insufferable, miserable, piece of week-old horse shit!” Lucy cursed under her breath.

She aimed the gun at the man she very much suspected was none other than Philip Halford himself.

“Three!”

The men didn’t move. Lucy took a deep breath, blew it out, aimed carefully, and pulled the trigger.

The gun fired and the man she thought was Philip yelled. She’d only grazed him. While she’d dearly love to shoot him right there in her yard, doing so might not be a good idea. Just yet anyway.

“Shit, she’s really shooting!” one of them shouted.

Lucy fired again, this time hitting the ground near the feet of one of their horses. The horse reared, throwing the rider off, and then took off at a dead run. The rider, who hastily pulled his hood back into place, took off after it.

Lucy yelled through the window as she loaded new shells into the gun’s chamber. “Those were warning shots. Next time I won’t miss!”

A few more horses rode off and by the time Lucy had the gun loaded and ready to fire again, only one horse and rider stood in the courtyard. He looked toward the schoolhouse for a moment and then turned and rode off.

Lucy watched out the window, waiting to see if any of them would come back. And wondering if that had indeed been Philip under that hood. Whoever it was had been the man who’d stayed behind to give her that parting look to make sure she knew he wasn’t afraid of her.

But none of them came back.

The adrenaline that had been coursing through her system started wearing off, and Lucy carefully lowered the rifle with suddenly shaking hands. She took a tremulous step away from the window and Lilah hurried forward to take the gun from her. Lucy stumbled to a bench and sank down, her hand pressed to her pounding heart.

More shouts echoed from the courtyard and Lucy jumped to her feet, but Lilah grabbed her arm.

“It’s just Sam.”

Lilah ran to the door to let Sam and the others with him know she and Lucy were all right. The men started a line from the water pump, filling a bucket up and passing it down until they had the cross doused. They had the smoldering timbers pulled down in record time. But Lucy knew the image would always be seared into her mind.

Once Sam and his friends had cleaned up the sacrilegious mess as best they could, and made sure that Lucy was okay, they returned to their homes. Lilah saw Lucy to her little cottage. Lucy stood on the threshold, looking around at the home that only a few hours before had felt like such a refuge, and realized that despite her anger and her bravado, she didn’t want to be alone there.

“Lilah,” she said quietly.

“I was wonderin’ if you’d mind if I stayed with you tonight,” Lilah said. Lucy looked at her and Lilah smiled. “What just happened is enough to shake anyone, I reckon. I think we’ll both sleep a might better if we weren’t alone.”

“I’d be very grateful, Lilah. Thank you.”

“My pleasure, Miz Lucy.”

Lilah started a small fire in the hearth while Lucy found a few quilts and made up a bed for her friend on the sofa.

“I think Philip was there,” she said, finally voicing the thought that wouldn’t leave her mind.

“It wouldn’t surprise me,” Lilah answered.

Lucy frowned. “Really?” She thought for a moment. “I suppose it doesn’t surprise me that he’d want to be part of something like that. But it does surprise me that he’d follow through on it. For a man who needs to keep a large majority of his affairs private, it seems like an unnecessary risk to be involved with such a group.”

Lilah shrugged. “Seems to me like he’s just the sort of man who’d fit right in with them.”

Lucy thought for a moment longer. “No matter what the sentiments of those down here, being involved in such activities wouldn’t be the best for Philip politically if they were known. He’s certainly committed crimes while he thought he was hiding in his bedsheets. Maybe if we could find proof that he was part of this tonight, or that he was part of similar incidents, it would be enough to bring him down. Maybe even get him arrested. And once one crime is known, others are sure to be exposed.”

“The only place to find proof would be at his home. He won’t keep anythin’ that will tie him to the Klan where just anyone can find it.”

“Well then, we’ll just have to search his house.” Lucy smiled at the horrified look on Lilah’s face.

“Why do you want to jump right into the lion’s den?”

“It’s the best place to look. The sooner we get him exposed for the evil, corrupt coward that he is, the better for our students and our school…and Finn.”

Lilah chewed that over for a minute and finally nodded. “So, how do we get into his house?”

“That won’t be a problem. I’ve already been invited to his annual Fall Social at the end of the week. The trouble will be bringing you with me.”

“Oh, that’s no trouble. I take it you’ve never heard of the Halford’s Fall Socials.”

Lucy shook her head.

“It’s an all-day affair. Guests will begin arrivin’ soon after breakfast. There will be croquet on the lawn and some other games and after lunch, the ladies will retire to rest for the afternoon so they can be fresh for the ball that evening. All the ladies will be bringing their maids to help them dress for the evenin’.”

“Excellent. Well then, I suppose we have nothing to do now but wait.”

Chapter Twelve

Well, Lucy would give one thing to Philip. The man knew how to throw a party. Groups of gaily dressed people milled around the lawn of Philip’s estate, chatting, munching on delicious hors d’oeuvres, and generally having a wonderful time. A few months ago, Lucy would have been included. Now, aside from a few polite nods in her direction and one or two brave souls who’d deigned to speak to her, most people steered clear. Everyone had heard what had happened at her school, and those who had once been content to look the other way had, for the most part, decided they were safer avoiding her company. No one wanted to risk being drawn into her fight. She could understand that, but she condemned it all the same.

Finn stepped out of the house and on to the veranda, his gaze scanning the crowd on the lawn beneath him. All thoughts of her nighttime visitors disappeared as she stared up at him. Her breath caught in her throat and her stomach did a little flip. It didn’t matter how much time she spent in his company, seeing him again, even after such a short time, always made her feel like a twitterpated schoolgirl.

Lucy knew the moment Finn caught site of her. His bland, polite expression changed to one of surprise and then irritation. He accepted a drink from a passing servant and casually made his way across the lawn to her side. He stood facing away from her but so close their shoulders touched. He didn’t look at her, his gaze continuously scanning the yard, but his words were said so only she could hear them.

“What are you doing here?”

“I was invited.”

Finn shot her an exasperated look and she buried her grin in her punch cup. Her smile faded as she glanced around, took in the groups of her acquaintances that were, for the most part, studiously avoiding her company. She sighed and leaned closer to Finn, letting the full length of her shoulder and arm press against him.

“How long have you been back?”

“I’ve only just returned.”

Lucy nodded. That would explain why he hadn’t mentioned her little incident. Well…he’d hear about it sooner than later so he might as well hear it from her.

“I had a little visit from a group of sheeted-up men. They burned a cross in my yard, threatened me and Lilah.”

Finn stiffened and looked at her with an intensity that made her take a step back.

“Are you all right?”

A lump rose in Lucy’s throat and she dropped her gaze. She’d been able to hold it together all this time, but a simple question from him and she was ready to fall into his arms blubbering. It was beyond maddening. She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I shot a few warning shots at them and they scattered like the cowards they are.”

Finn snorted and shook his head. “You never cease to surprise me, Lucy.”

Lucy cocked an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not.” She gave him a small smile. “In any case, to answer your earlier question, I’m fairly sure that Philip was one of my masked intruders that night.”

Finn turned his gaze back to the room, but she could see his jaw clenching. “What makes you think that?”

“I know his voice.”

Finn was silent for a moment. “Well. If he is involved in any nocturnal activities, it’s not something he’s ever shared with me. Though I wouldn’t be surprised. But that makes your presence here even less advisable, so I’ll repeat, what are you doing here?”

Lucy glared at him. “I’m going to find some proof that Philip is the lying, conniving, bedsheet-wearing snake that I know him to be and expose him once and for all. I’m going to find something, anything, that will provide the evidence that will free us both from him.” She looked back at the crowd. “And I can’t very well do that from home now, can I?”

“Don’t do this, Lucy. Go home. We can discuss this later. I will help you if I can. But for now, go home, lay low. If the Klan has already paid you a visit, it is only going to get worse. I know you love your school, but…”

“Don’t say it, Finn. I’m not going to let a bunch of cowards, who won’t even show their faces, run me out of town.”

Before Finn could speak again, Lucy caught sight of Lilah toward the veranda of the house. “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Lucy…”

But Lucy ignored him. It warmed her heart that he was concerned, but she wasn’t going to let him dissuade her from her course of action. Philip had terrorized those she cared about for far too long. She would do everything she could to bring him down.

Lucy’s impatience grew with each girlish twitter from the other women in the room. The single women had been given a suite of rooms in which to refresh themselves before the ball that evening and there were ladies in various states of dishevelment all over the place. Several were napping on the large bed and chaise lounges that were spread through the rooms. Others were excitedly exclaiming over each other’s ball gowns, while their maids scurried to and fro trying to keep their mistresses’ belongings in order.

Finally, Lilah stuck her head in and nodded. Lucy followed her out, calling over her shoulder that she was going out for some air when a few of the ladies questioned where she was headed.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Lucy took a deep breath. Her nerves were a jumble of chaos, and the incessant chatter had driven her to the brink of madness.

She followed Lilah down the long hallway toward the back stairs. “Mr. Halford has organized a ride for his male guests. We should have plenty of time to search his office before they return.”

Lilah led her down the stairs, through the bustling kitchen, and out into the main floor of the house. Lilah didn’t slow down but marched purposefully toward a closed door. Lucy followed behind, acting for all the world as if she’d just been summoned and had every right to be heading toward Mr. Halford’s private office.

When they reached the door, Lilah glanced quickly around and then pulled a key out of her bodice. Lucy’s eyebrows raised, but she said nothing until they were safely inside the office.

“Do I want to know how you got the key?” Lucy asked.

Lilah smirked. “I still have friends here. It was easy enough to take if off the housekeeper while her attention was on the fine bottle of brandy I brung her. And no, you don’t want to know where I got that.”

Lucy smiled and shook her head, then got to work exploring the room while Lilah kept a lookout at the door. The office was filled with wall-to-wall bookcases that were stacked with books and small knickknacks. She did a quick perusal of the shelves on her way to the enormous desk set between two floor-to-ceiling windows at the far end of the room. She doubted Philip would leave anything incriminating out in the open where anyone could see.

She tried the drawers on the desks but they were all locked. No matter. She’d come prepared for that. Lucy had yet to come across a lock she couldn’t pick, much to her sisters’ envy. She knelt on the floor, her skirts billowing around her, and yanked two pins from her hair. She quickly bent them to the shape she needed to help hold the lock’s internal pins out of the way and got to work.

The lock to the largest drawer clicked and Lucy triumphantly pulled it out. Inside were rows of files. She glanced through each one, but none seemed to be out of the ordinary. Household inventories, campaign documents, travel records. Nothing of any importance. Nothing that shouted I’m a corrupt criminal, come lock me up.

Lilah squeaked and closed the door, locking it, seconds before Philip’s voice boomed through the entryway beyond the door.

“He’s back!” Lilah ran toward a bookcase near the door, shoving on a section of it to reveal a small, hidden closet and beckoned to Lucy to follow her.

Lucy slammed the drawer shut and ran for the closet. She made it inside just as the door to the office opened and Philip entered.

“I thought you said he was gone,” hissed Lucy.

“I thought he was. The rest of the gentlemen left. He should have gone with them.”

“Shh.” Lucy put her finger to her lips and strained to hear through the door.

He was speaking to someone, though it took Lucy a moment to realize who it was.

Finn.

Lucy pressed her ear to the thin wood wall, struggling to hear what they were saying. Their voices were muffled, but she could make out most of what they were saying.

…

Finn glanced around Philip’s office, certain he’d heard something as they were entering. Everything looked in order but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. He half expected to see Lucy’s skirts sticking out from beneath the desk. He wouldn’t put it past her to break into Philip’s office. But Philip took a seat at his desk without incident, so for now, it seemed, Lucy must be minding her manners.

However, Finn was in no way fooled that her restraint would last. He could almost see the fury bubbling under her surface whenever he looked at her. And to be honest, he couldn’t blame her. Halford was threatening her school and those Lucy held dear. She wouldn’t let it continue for much longer. One of these days, something she couldn’t ignore would happen and she’d retaliate.

Knowing Lucy and her penchant for playing the martyred hero, he feared he knew exactly what that might be. Instead of heeding his warning about Halford and leaving town, she’d probably taken it upon herself to try and free Finn from Halford’s grasp. The thought made Finn’s blood boil with anger and fear…and a healthy dose of pride, if he were honest.

He couldn’t help admiring her spunk and was touched that she’d risk so much on his behalf. But the tender feelings ended there. The blasted woman was going to get them both killed: her because Halford would never let her get away with whatever she was planning, and him because he’d die before he let Halford harm one beautiful inch of her.

Halford unlocked his top desk drawer and handed Finn a sheaf of papers. “I need you to go to the docks tonight. I have some cargo coming in and you must supervise the unloading.”

“Is it something one of the other men can handle?”

“Under normal circumstances, possibly. But tonight’s shipment contains a few special items that won’t be listed on the inventory sheet. I need you to oversee it personally.”

Finn hesitated and Halford cocked an eyebrow. “Is there a problem?”

“No. Of course not.”

“I know you’ve just returned, but it’s only one more night. I need my best man on this one.”

“Of course.” Finn forced a smile, though his gut was churning. He hadn’t seen Lucy in far too long and the need to assure himself of her well-being was becoming overwhelming.

“Did you have other plans?” Halford’s voice was cold. Finn wasn’t doing as good of a job hiding his emotions as he used to.

“Not really, no. I’d thought to perhaps stop in and make sure Lucy was settling in to her new home. I don’t want to shirk my familial duties.”

Halford turned away, hiding his expression, and Finn’s suspicions were immediately raised.

“Don’t worry about your cousin. I’ll make sure she’s taken care of.”

Finn’s blood ran cold.

“Oh come now. Surely you trust me with her.”

“Trust you with a beautiful woman?” Finn said, trying to inject as much good-natured male humor into his voice as he could. It was difficult when all he wanted to do was wrap his hands around Philip’s throat.

Philip let out a hearty laugh. “Don’t worry, Taggart. I’ll treat her with the same care and consideration as you will show the special cargo you’ll be handling. That way we can both be assured that our respective treasures are safe. It would be tragic if either of them were to fall into the wrong hands.”

Finn didn’t miss the warning in Halford’s voice. The man was too shrewd. If Finn had had any thought of double-crossing him, letting his cargo fall into the hands of the authorities, it was gone now. And the thought had crossed his mind a time or two. If Philip were to be arrested, his whole corrupt empire would disintegrate and Finn would be free. Philip didn’t trust anyone enough to share his power. Finn was the closest thing he had to a right-hand man. The rest of Philip’s network was flunkies and thugs that Philip hired while he kept tight hold of the reins.

But with Halford essentially holding Lucy hostage, Finn’s continued loyalty was assured. Which was the exact situation Finn had been trying to avoid when he’d attempted to make Lucy leave. Stubborn woman.

“Will we have any problems tonight?” Philip asked.

Finn met his gaze and did his best to keep his fury contained. He knew his face was devoid of expression. He’d had years to practice keeping his emotions hidden. But he didn’t think Philip was fooled.

“No. No problems.”

“Good. Then I’ll expect you back with the special shipment by early morning. The rest of the cargo you can send on to the warehouses.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must go entertain my guests.”

Finn inclined his head and watched Philip leave the room. He needed to find Lucy. He’d get her on the next train to Boston if he had to hog-tie her and shove her in a gunnysack to do it. Finn stormed out of the office. The time for cajoling and threatening was over.

Chapter Thirteen

The gentle breeze through the trees would have been peaceful under normal circumstances. But at the moment, the mist that seemed to hang over everything, mixed with the pungent scent of horse and unwashed male, only served to intensify the churning of Lucy’s belly. She and Lilah watched Finn from the shadows of a building amid a row of warehouses, Lilah hunkering further into her cloak as a cold breeze blew through the alleyways.

It was a dark night. The men were scarcely visible, though every now and then Lucy caught sight of Finn’s face in the light of the lanterns. Lucy slid down and leaned against the wall of the building, trying to make herself comfortable while they waited for something to happen. Lilah followed suit but had a much harder time of it as she tried to tuck her skirts about her legs.

That was one of the many reasons that Lucy, much to Lilah’s horror, had raided the laundry at Philip’s house and was wearing one of his suits along with a coat she’d found hanging in a spare closet. If it was one thing Lucy had learned from her bandit days, it was to dress appropriately for every situation. A spying expedition to the warehouse district in the middle of the night, along with wherever Finn would be moving the cargo, called for attire that would allow her to move uninhibited.

So far, nothing too exciting had happened. Finn stood near the wagons with a checklist, checking each box that was unloaded. Lucy hadn’t seen any cargo that looked in any way suspicious and other than the men that were unloading the crates, Finn hadn’t spoken to anyone else. Whatever this special shipment of Philip’s was, it either hadn’t been unloaded yet or was secreted within the regular cargo.

“Nothing’s happening,” Lilah whispered, stamping her feet a bit to warm them up.

Lucy leaned forward, craning her neck around the corner of the building, and took another look before ducking back. “It looks like they are almost done unloading. Come on,” she said, pulling Lilah up. “We need to be ready to move.”

Finn had been directing where each crate went as it came off the wagons. The vast majority of the crates had been loaded into the warehouse that Lucy assumed belonged to Philip. But a small number of crates had been loaded onto a separate wagon. While each of the other wagons was accompanied by a driver and one other man, this wagon had four men. That must be the one with the special cargo.

Lucy watched while Finn finished up with the man in charge of the shipment and marched over to the overly guarded wagon. He jumped up beside the driver and they were off.

“Let’s go,” Lucy said, hurrying over to where her horse sat waiting.

Lilah’s face puckered, but she gamely clambered onto the horse behind Lucy. Lucy had learned that Lilah hated horses and hadn’t been too pleased to find they’d be riding one. But it was much easier to quietly follow someone on a single horse than it would have been in a carriage. Lucy would have preferred to go on foot, but she had no idea how far they’d be traveling and she wanted a means of quick escape if it became necessary.

She kept her distance from the wagon, ensuring her horse was hidden within the trees that lined the road. If Finn had been alone, she wouldn’t have worried so much. But the four thugs accompanying him were bad news, and if Lucy could avoid a confrontation with them, she would. Especially with Lilah clinging to her back. Lucy could handle herself, but she didn’t want to put her friend in any more danger than she already had.

They followed the wagon for some time before Lucy became aware that they were nearing Philip’s property. After a few more minutes, the wagon stopped at a dilapidated gate that marked the boundary of the property. Finn hopped down and opened it and waved the wagon through. Lucy waited until the wagon had rumbled around the bend in the road and then rode up to the fence line and climbed off the horse.

“We’ll have to go on foot from here,” she told Lilah as she helped her down.

“What about the horse?”

“We’ll leave her tied up here. I don’t think they’ll be going far. They’ll keep the cargo out of sight of the house, so there must be a place at the back of the property where they are going to unload the cargo.”

Lilah froze, her whole body going rigid. “The old slave quarters are back here.”

“Does anyone use them anymore?”

Lilah shook her head. “Folks think they’re haunted, won’t go near them. There was a bad fire there during the war. Most of them burned down. Killed several slaves.”

The pain in Lilah’s voice tore at Lucy’s heart. “Oh, Lilah, I’m so sorry.”

“Weren’t your fault,” she said with her good old Southern logic. “Mr. Halford never bothered to clear them out and since he no longer runs his cotton plantation, he don’t have need of ’em. The house servants have rooms in the attics.”

“Well, it sounds like the perfect place for hiding secret cargo.”

“I reckon it is. Maybe it’s better if we wait a spell though. There’s no sense in us bustin’ in there with all them men hangin’ around. It’d be safer for sure if we wait ’til they all leave.”

“Perhaps, but we can’t know for certain where they are taking the cargo or even if it’s really illegal. If we are going to defeat Philip, we need solid evidence, and we aren’t going to find that hiding out in our bedrooms. We need to see what they have and where they are putting it.”

Lilah took a deep breath and blew it out. “All right, then. Let’s go.”

Lucy took her by the hand and led the way through the trees and brush, following the trail the wagon had taken. After several minutes, a group of shacks came into view. The structures were arranged in a large half circle, like a small village surrounding a communal square. All of the buildings showed signs of the fire. Some were nothing but piles of burned timber and rubble. Others had been gutted by the flames, though the walls, or some of them, had been left standing. Only two were still in relatively decent condition, though they had also been scorched.

It was into one of these that Finn’s men had unloaded the crates from the wagon. By the time Lucy and Lilah crouched down behind the back wall, the wagon stood empty in front of the shack. Lucy carefully peeked through the remains of a window. Finn stood near the door of the structure, apparently giving instructions to three of the men. They all nodded at whatever he said and then he turned and left. He either had a horse waiting that they hadn’t seen or had taken one of the wagon horses because a few moments later, Lucy heard the distinct sound of hooves riding away.

She looked around the interior one last time. The remnants of the previous occupants were still there. A broken table and a couple chairs sat in one corner. Various piles of rubble and unidentifiable bits of household items were scattered here and there. The crates, however, were nowhere to be seen. And neither was the fourth man.

A shiver of unease crawled up Lucy’s spine. She grabbed Lilah’s hand to run. But when they turned to flee, they came face-to-face with the missing thug…and his gun, which was aimed right at their heads.

“Evenin’,” he said.

Lucy slowly raised her hands, but Lilah gasped and opened her mouth to scream.

The man cocked the gun. “None of that now, ya hear?”

Lilah’s mouth snapped shut with a whimper, but she nodded her head.

“Come on.” He gestured with the gun, directing them around to the front of the shack.

Lucy’s mind raced. Finn had left but he couldn’t have gone too far. If she screamed, he might hear her. But then what? Lucy hated the thread of distrust that wormed its way into her consciousness, but she had to admit that she wasn’t one hundred percent positive that Finn would get her out of this situation. Or that he could get her out of it even if he wanted to. These were Philip’s men. They might take orders from Finn, but Lucy couldn’t count on their loyalty to him.

Even if she could, she had been caught spying on them. She knew the secret cargo was hidden somewhere nearby. Finn might be forced to do something he might not want to do. Even with her at his back, they were outnumbered. Lucy didn’t count the trembling maid at her side. The last thing she wanted to do was get Lilah hurt.

They were nearing the corner of the building. Around that corner, the other three men waited. If Lucy was going to act, she needed to do it now.

She put her arm around Lilah, acting as though she were comforting the maid. She leaned in as close as she could and whispered, “When I tell you to run, go! Get to the horse as fast as you can and get out of here.”

Before Lilah could respond, Lucy shoved her to the ground and rounded on the man with the gun. She ducked and barreled into him, her shoulder connecting with his gut. Her momentum knocked him off his feet and made his shot go wide.

“Go!” Lucy shouted to Lilah.

Lilah hesitated only a second, but when she heard the shouts of the other men, she took off like a flash, disappearing into the trees.

Lucy grappled with the man on the ground. He’d dropped his gun somewhere, but he had a firm hold on her waist. She reared back as far as she could and slammed her elbow into his nose. He bellowed but he let go.

Lucy sprinted away but was knocked flat when one of the other men launched himself at her, tackling her to the ground. She struggled against his hold, but he had the upper hand. He sat on her, his legs straddled on each side of her thighs keeping her from getting to her feet while he fought to pin her arms to the ground. It didn’t take long. No matter how much fight she had in her, the man outweighed her by a good hundred or more pounds.

During their fight, her hat had fallen away, leaving her braid tumbling down her shoulders.

The man looked down at her, panting heavily in her face. She could tell the instant he finally registered that she was female. The fury in his eyes transformed into a smug anticipation and the ball of revulsion in her gut churned with a fresh spike of fear.

“Well now. Looky what we’ve got here.”

He stood, hauling her up with him, keeping his beefy hand firmly gripped around her wrists. He wrenched her arms behind her back and marched her past the two men who’d been watching their fight. The third man glared daggers at her, his hand clamped to his bleeding nose. She winked at him. She didn’t know what possessed her, but she couldn’t help herself. He roared and stumbled toward her but one of the other men kicked at him.

“Leave off, Jimmy. You’ll get your shot at her. We need to have us a little talk first.”

Lucy instantly regretted the winking. But damn it all, she was tired of pigheaded men thinking they could do whatever they wanted to her without suffering any consequences.

The men marched her into the shack. One grabbed one of the chairs from the corner and another removed his belt and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. He tied her hands behind her with the cloth and then made quick work of binding her to the chair with the belt. When she was secure, the one who seemed to be in charge squatted down in front of her.

“Now then. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing roaming around at this time of night?”

Lucy shrugged as best she could through the belt binding her arms to the chair. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought I’d go for a little walk.”

“Humph.” He drew his finger down the front of her shirt, his eyes following the trail before glancing back up to meet her gaze. “That’s an interesting choice of clothing for a lady.”

Lucy repressed her shudder of revulsion. “I didn’t want to ruin any of my dresses.”

The man dragged his hand down her thigh and stopped midway. He leaned forward, squeezing hard enough that Lucy bit her lip to keep from crying out. “Why don’t you just quit the games and tell me what you’re really doing out here.”

Lucy took a shuddering breath. “I told you, I just wanted some a—”

His hand cracked across her face so hard her head snapped back. She tasted blood, but she couldn’t tell if it was coming from her nose or lip.

Fine. They didn’t want to play nice. She had no problem with that.

“Do I need to ask you again, or are you ready to talk now?”

“There’s only one thing I want to say to you,” she said quietly.

“And what’s that?” He leaned in again, matching her quiet tone.

“I don’t want the others to hear.”

He leaned in closer. “Don’t want them to hear what?”

“Go to hell,” she whispered. Then she reared her head back and head-butted him as hard as she could.

The sight of him falling off his chair as his head snapped back on his neck blacked out for a second and bright spots peppered her vision. He grabbed his head and shook it like a dog and then lurched off the floor at her. She brought her knees up against her chest and before he could stop his momentum, she slammed her feet into his gut and kicked off with every ounce of strength she had.

He went flying backward, shaking the entire building when he hit the wall. Another man charged her and she stood as best she could, swinging the chair she was attached to around to crash into him. The bottom of the chair, already flimsy and damaged from the fire, broke off, though her arms were still tied to the top half. At least she could move her legs freely.

The other two men advanced on her. Lucy’s head throbbed and her arms had gone numb from being tied. She staggered back as they came forward. She couldn’t fight them both off. She was rapidly losing steam. They flanked her, one coming on each side. Then one lunged. She dodged him, but swerving out of his range put her too close to the other man. He grabbed her from behind, grasping the edges of the chair back she was still tied to.

The other man sneered, hauled back his fist, and slammed it into her face. Lucy dropped to her knees, her head swimming.

“Get back up, bitch!” he shouted, kicking her in the gut.

Lucy groaned and crumpled. It was over. She couldn’t fight them both off. And the third man was rising from where he’d been slumped against the wall. Lucy lay on the floor, her face in a rapidly spreading pool of her own blood, and she waited for them to come at her again.

The man she’d kicked against the wall staggered over. He stood staring down at her, his split lip pulling up in a vicious sneer. “You’re going to regret that, bitch.”

He took off his belt and Lucy swallowed down the bile that threatened to choke her.

“I already do regret it,” she said, forcing more bravado into her voice than she really felt.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll never get your putrid stink off my boots.”

The man’s face twisted in fury and he brought the belt down, the heavy buckle cracking against her hipbone as the leather of the belt seared into her thighs. Lucy cried out and the man smiled, pursed his lips, and spit on her.

“I haven’t even gotten started yet, you whore. You’re going to be begging me to kill you by the time I’m done with you.”

“I don’t know, Zeke. A flighty little piece like her, dressing up all indecent and flauntin’ herself in those britches. She might just like it. If she don’t like you, I’m bettin’ she’ll be happy to try me on for size.”

They laughed. Lucy closed her eyes against the tears that were building. She wouldn’t let them see her cry.

At first, the sound of the gunshot didn’t register. But when the man holding the belt dropped to the floor, his lifeless eyes staring into hers, she realized she hadn’t dreamed it.

Another shot rang out. Another man fell.

The other two scrambled, one searching the ground for a weapon. The other didn’t bother but ran for one of the burned out windows. He didn’t make it. A third shot echoed through the room and he dropped.

The fourth man lunged for Lucy, trying to drag her in front of him to use as a shield. Lucy went completely limp, forcing the man to hold her dead weight in his sweaty grip. The second she felt his grip slipping, she wrenched around, breaking his hold. She dropped to the ground and scrambled away from him as best she could.

A fourth shot rang out.

And then it was silent but for Lucy’s labored breathing and a woman’s horrified gasps. Lucy’s nose still bled, though it had swollen so much the fluid could barely trickle through the blocked passageways. Her head ached so much she could barely lift it and her arms felt like tiny knives were stabbing her all over.

She glanced up and met Finn’s gaze. For a moment, it felt like time stopped. Her entire world reduced down to him. There was no sound but that of her heart beating, no sight of anything but his face. His beautiful, wonderful face that looked upon her with such anguish she felt her own heart shatter.

Finn sank down to his knees and gently peeled back the hair that stuck to the blood on her face. He didn’t speak, his jaw clenched so tightly she could see the joint popping in and out near his temple. His breath came in short bursts and Lucy had the feeling that if he could, he’d be howling his fury aloud. She knew the feeling.

Finn pulled his knife from his boot and carefully turned her so he could cut the belt from her arms. She hissed as the blood rushed back into her limbs in a river of fire that lapped at her arms and hands. Finn bent to scoop her into his arms. She couldn’t help him at all; her arms were totally useless. He murmured in her ear, soothing words she couldn’t understand. She didn’t need to. He was there. His heart beat steadily beneath her ear. That’s all she needed to hear.

His horse stood waiting outside the door and Finn gently eased her into the saddle. The world tilted for a moment but she hung on as best she could until he climbed up behind her and she was able to settle back against him. He leaned over and took the reins from Lilah, leading the horse she’d clambered up on, then turned their horses back toward town.

“What about them?” Lucy said. She didn’t particularly care what came of the men they left behind, but Finn had just killed four men. She didn’t want that to come back to hurt him.

“Leave them,” Lilah said. “Ain’t nobody come here no more. They’s enough ghosts to keep dem company here.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Finn said, pressing several kisses into her hair and along her forehead. “Don’t give them another thought. Just rest now. I’ve got you.”

Rest. Nothing sounded better.

Lucy slumped against Finn and closed her eyes.

Chapter Fourteen

Lucy drifted in and out over the next several days, but Finn was always there when she opened her eyes. One morning, Lucy woke to find Finn stretched out beside her in the bed, sound asleep. She carefully turned on her side so she could watch him. Her body was still sore, but she felt much better. After gingerly pressing the sore flesh of her face, she determined that the swelling had greatly reduced, though she was sure she looked a fright.

Finn, on the other hand, looked absolutely mouthwatering. He hadn’t covered his tattoos since he’d brought her home. There had been no need as he hadn’t left her side. She reveled in being able to stare at him, the real him, unimpeded. His mouth parted slightly and his breath moved in and out, making a slight squeaking sound on the exhale. Lucy put her face in her pillow and giggled.

Finn snorted and opened his eyes, looking around the room a moment before his gaze rested on her.

“Good morning,” he said, stretching a bit before he turned on his side to face her. “What’s so funny?”

Lucy smiled up at him. “You squeak when you sleep.”

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve ever heard.”

Finn gasped with fake offense. “Madam, a man may be many things. Fierce, strong, ferocious, powerful, devastatingly handsome, perhaps. But never adorable.”

“Sorry, you are definitely adorable.”

He narrowed his eyes and growled. Lucy laughed and then sucked in her breath as the movement jarred her healing face. All merriment dropped from Finn and he reached out a gentle finger to trail along her lip and up her bruised cheek.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t get there sooner.”

“Shh.” Lucy shook her head. “You have nothing to apologize for. Ever.”

He caressed her cheek, his eyes creasing in worry and sorrow. Lucy kissed him, cutting off whatever else he might have said.

“You saved me, Finn. That’s all that matters. You saved me.”

He took a deep, shuddering breath and rested his forehead against hers. They stayed that way for several moments, relishing being in each other’s arms. He finally pulled away to look at her again.

“How are you feeling today?”

“Much better,” she murmured, enjoying the brush of his hand along her skin. “Really,” she said when his eyes narrowed. “I’m still a little sore but I don’t feel as stiff and my face doesn’t ache as much as it did.”

He frowned. “I’m not sure I believe that.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I mean no offense by this, but you look like hell.”

Lucy laughed again. “I’m sore. But I’ll survive. I’m sure it looks worse than it feels.”

“I hope so,” Finn murmured.

He leaned forward and gently kissed her temple, then moved down, his lips barely touching the bruised skin of her face. When he reached her lips he carefully kissed her, so lightly his lips barely brushed against hers.

He moved to sit back but Lucy reached up to cup his head in her hand and brought him back to her. She kissed him again, lightly at first, and then more insistently. Finn tried to pull away again.

“Don’t stop,” Lucy begged.

“Lucy, we shouldn’t.”

“Why not? I’ve waited to be with you for nearly a decade. I’m done waiting.”

She pulled him back to meet her lips, taking a long, deep taste of him.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he murmured against her mouth.

She nipped at his bottom lip. “I’ll tell you if it hurts.”

He trailed kisses along her throat, down her neck. “Promise?”

He reached her collarbone, his tongue darting out to taste the hollow of her throat while he untied the ribbon of her neckline.

Lucy dragged in a tremulous breath. “I promise,” she said, knowing she’d gladly suffer in silence before she’d tell him to stop what he was doing.

She leaned into him with a tremulous sigh, enjoying the warmth of his body pressed against hers. They were finally alone.

That notion pushed all thoughts from her mind. She gazed at him, her breath quickening as he leaned down to kiss her. The gentle press of his lips deepened, his tongue lightly flicking at her lips until she opened to him. His hands moved to cup her face, slipping into her hair and grabbing hold as he worshipped her with his lips.

Lucy’s arms wound around Finn’s neck, and she clung to him, her tongue tangling with his as a low moan escaped her throat. The small noise seemed to spur him on and her head swam as his hands massaged their way down her back, gripping her hips to keep them firmly pressed to him. She was very aware that he was every bit as affected as she. The heat building low in her belly flared as Finn covered her body with his own. She threw her head back, dragging in a ragged breath as he pushed her chemise off her shoulders, baring her to his touch. His hands traveled up her rib cage and she gasped, arching into his fingers as he gently caressed her through her thin gown.

Finn paused at the sound, glancing at her to make sure she was still okay. Lucy answered him by wrapping a leg about his hips and covering his lips with hers.

Neither one of them needed to have worried. Finn was extra-careful of her as he explored her body. Lucy felt nothing but sublime happiness. Any discomfort melted away on wave after wave of pleasure. She’d waited so very long for this moment, for this man. The love she felt for him eclipsed everything else. There was nothing but him, nothing but them. All the years of wondering, mourning, were burned away with every searing kiss, every whispered endearment.

And at the final moment, when Lucy gazed up at Finn to see her own tears of joy mirrored in his eyes, she knew they were both healed at last.

The day had waned into night and the morning dawned anew and still they lay tangled together. Lucy stretched out beside Finn and wrapped her arm around his waist, cuddling into him. He drew a finger along her jawline, pressing up on her chin to tilt her face up to his. He kissed her, his lips lingering long enough that the sweet hello began to build into something much more. Lucy brought her hand up to tangle in his hair, trying to press him even closer.

Finn chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I should probably go. It’ll be morning soon.”

“Not yet,” Lucy said, tightening her grip on him. “We’ve still got time.”

Finn chuckled. “Possibly, though I’m not sure what we could do to fill that time. You’ve exhausted me, lass.”

Lucy buried her smile against his chest, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “We could talk.”

“Hmm, about what?”

“You never told me how you got these,” Lucy said, tracing the scars that ran over his chest and arms. “Or this.” She ran a finger down a long scar on his leg and Finn shivered and laughed, snagging her hand so she couldn’t do it again.

“Not much to tell. I fought in the war. Sometimes the war got the best of me.”

“About that,” Lucy said, propping herself up on her elbows. “If you work for Philip, who is Southern through and through, how in the world did you end up fighting for the North?”

Finn sighed and tucked a hand behind his head. “Philip thought if he had a man in a prominent position with the other army, it would give the South a leg up.”

“You were a spy?”

Finn laughed again. “Not a very good one. I passed along enough information to keep Halford happy, but I made sure it was outdated. Headquarter locations that had been moved, plans that had been changed. A few times I even managed to feed them information that helped the North.”

“Sounds like a fine line to balance.”

“You have no idea,” he said, leaning down to nuzzle at her neck.

“Hmm,” she purred, the sensation of his breath on her neck toe-curlingly divine. “A butler, a double spy, a bodyguard, a priest. Is there anything you can’t do?”

Finn snorted. “A priest?”

Lucy grinned. “You married Brynne and Jake, didn’t you?”

“Well, yes. But I’m hardly a priest. Don’t have the temperament for it,” he said, swooping in for another kiss. “They were the only couple I ever married and it was really more of a mishmash of the few words I remembered from a handfasting I’d seen once in Ireland and the Mohave ceremonies I’d seen. And I only did it because Jake begged me to.”

“I don’t see why he even asked. He knew it wouldn’t be legal.”

Finn shrugged. “I suspect they just wanted something to make it more official in their eyes. A way to pledge themselves to each other until they could get a real pastor to do the job. I was the only somewhat religious man available at the time.”

“A religious man, huh? Is that how you got these?” she asked, tracing the T-shaped tattoos just below Finn’s cheekbones.

He took her hand and kissed her fingers, one by one, before laying her hand on his chest beneath his. The gesture was sweet, but Lucy knew he’d done it to stop her from touching the marks. She curled onto her side, her head propped on her arm.

“Is it a painful memory?”

“Yes.”

Lucy’s brow furrowed. She didn’t understand. The marks were supposedly only given to very important members of the tribe. Gaining such marks, especially for one who was adopted into the tribe, should have been a wonderful memory. One to be proud of. Curiosity ate at her, but Lucy didn’t want to pry further.

Finn sighed and wrapped his arm about her, drawing her into his chest. She loved being close to him, even though he’d effectively made it impossible for her to continue staring at him. The man had talent.

“Do you remember when you asked if I’d ever loved anyone before?”

Lucy held perfectly still, not sure where this was going, but not wanting to interrupt the first mention he’d made of his life before Boston.

“Yes,” she answered quietly.

Finn’s arms tightened around her and Lucy stroked his chest, trying to ease whatever turmoil was making his heart slam against her fingers.

“I called her Rachel. I couldn’t pronounce her name when we first met.” He smiled sadly. “She was the first one to smile at me when my mother and I first came to the village. The only one to smile at me. My mother and I…not everyone accepted our presence right away. Couldn’t blame them, really. Two scraggly castoffs without another soul in the world to claim them. Except my stepfather, for a time at least.

“He’d found us half-starved outside one of the mining camps. My father had gotten sick on the crossing over from Ireland to America and the long journey to California hadn’t improved his health. He died soon after we arrived in California. My mother was afraid to venture too far into the mining camp. Women were very scarce in those parts. She’d likely have had a hundred marriage proposals after her first afternoon, but she was convinced she’d be raped and left for dead if she set foot in the camp. She might have been right. So, whenever we needed supplies, I’d go in and barter or buy what I could, steal what I had to. We panned our little stream and kept to ourselves.”

“How old were you?”

“Thirteen.”

“So young,” Lucy said, burrowing closer into Finn’s chest. Her heart broke for the little boy he’d been.

“And how young were you when you started running raids with your sisters?”

Lucy laughed a little. “Okay, touché. So, how did you end up with the Mohave? They are much farther south than the mining camps.”

“Yes. My stepfather was a trapper and a bit of a wanderer. He’d spend fall and winter trapping in the north and then would travel south, selling his furs and whatever else he’d scrounged up. He was a tinker of sorts, I suppose. Had a great cart full of all sorts of things. He came across my mother one afternoon when I was away. But he was kind to her, fed her, and me when I returned. He was a good man, took care of us. I liked him well enough. I think my mother was just relieved to have someone take over the job of provider. She was a kind, sweet woman but didn’t have a tenth of your strength or gumption.”

Lucy pressed a kiss against Finn’s chest and let her fingers trail through the hair scattered across his skin. “He took you to the tribe?”

“Yes. We’d been planning to make our way back north, but my mother discovered she was pregnant. My stepfather thought it would be safer to stay put for a while. He often traded with the tribes and he brought us to one of the villages. They agreed to take us in until my mother’s child was born.”

Finn’s voice had grown sad again and Lucy knew what he’d say before he uttered the words.

“My mother wasn’t strong to begin with and all the traveling…well, it was just too much I guess. She died trying to give birth. The baby died with her.”

“Oh, Finn. I’m so sorry.”

His arms tightened for a moment, but he didn’t stop, as though he wanted to get through the rest of the story as quickly as possible. “My stepfather stuck around for a few weeks, but he wasn’t the type to stay in one place long. And without my mother there…well. He did make sure I would be accepted into the village before he left. One of the women in the tribe who’d lost a son adopted me. After a time, they gave me these,” he said, pointing to the lines beneath his lip. “I was glad to have them. They made me feel like I belonged.

“I was happy there. I had friends. And Rachel. She and I were always together. She could speak English better than most of the others. She helped me learn Mohave. We were best friends. And then…we were more than that.”

Finn stopped. The silence stretched long enough that Lucy didn’t think he’d go on. But she didn’t want to prompt him. Reliving his past was obviously painful for him and Lucy wasn’t going to push. She wasn’t so sure she wanted to hear the rest. So much pain in his young life. And yet, whatever happened to his first love, whatever memory was connected with the marks on his cheeks, was enough to make her stalwart warrior hesitate. Maybe she wasn’t strong enough to hear it.

When he began to speak again, his voice was so low Lucy had to strain to hear it.

“I wasn’t the only one in the village who loved her. There was another. One more worthy, in everyone’s eyes but hers. The tribe’s greatest warrior. But she loved me. Her family didn’t approve. Who was I? I’d been made part of the tribe, yes. But I was different. I didn’t really belong. So, we decided to run away.

“We snuck off one night. He followed us. Caught up with us. I fought him.”

He stopped and cleared his throat, his grip on Lucy so tight it was almost painful, but she wouldn’t have asked him to let go in a million years.

“I lost.”

He was quiet again, but this time Lucy had to ask. Had to know. “What happened?”

“Rachel tried to defend me, tried to help. A blow meant for me struck her. She fell on a rock. When he saw what he’d done, he went wild. I went numb. I don’t remember much of what happened after that. I just kept seeing her, lying there in her own blood. I didn’t fight him. I barely felt the blows. I wanted to die. Wanted to join her. But he wasn’t that merciful. I was injured. Badly enough that I drifted in and out of consciousness for days. He was always there when I woke. I didn’t understand why until I’d recovered enough to know what he’d done.

“He gave me these,” Finn said, tracing his own finger over the marks this time. “He was returning to the village, to tell them what I’d done. Tell them that her death was on my head. I didn’t even argue with him. He was right.”

“Oh, Finn, it wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I’d taken her away from the safety of the village. I’d thought I could protect her. That I would be enough. We didn’t make it two days.”

Lucy wanted to argue, insist that he was wrong. But she knew he wouldn’t listen. Not yet. “What did you do?”

“I couldn’t go back. I wouldn’t have anyway, but with the marks on my cheeks, the marks that only the most important members of the tribe carried. No. I couldn’t face them. It would be as if I’d been trying to set myself up above my place in the tribe. Mocking their sacred traditions. And I had Rachel’s blood on my hands. At least they would believe so. No. I couldn’t go back.”

“How old were you?”

“Nineteen.”

“Oh, Finn.”

“I couldn’t go back to them. But I couldn’t go to any of the towns either. The marks made me an outcast among the townsfolk, though for an entirely different reason. I tried to find work where I could. But most took one look at my face and chased me off. Some took pity. I suppose if I had pretended that I’d been a captive that had escaped, things would have gone easier. I would have been pitied, not reviled. But I couldn’t do that. They had been my family.

“So, I wandered. Did what I had to in order to survive. Begged and stole. Got into trouble. One day, got into too much trouble and ended up with a bounty on my head.”

“And then you met Jake,” Lucy said with a sad smile.

“Yes. Jake saved my life. I’ll never know why he didn’t turn me in. I remember him standing there, staring down at me. He asked if I knew why he was there. I said I sure did and held out my hands, waiting for him to tie me up and drag me in. But he didn’t. He cleaned me up, fed me, clothed me. Got me back on my feet and helped me find work, vouched for me and put his own name on the line when folks balked at hiring me. He made me care about living again.”

“Jake was a good man,” Lucy said, smiling at the memory of Brynne’s first husband.

“Yes, he was. And I failed him, too.”

Lucy sat up so she could look into Finn’s eyes. “No, Finn. You didn’t fail him. What happened to Jake was not your fault. You weren’t even in the country when he died. You couldn’t have saved him. You’d probably have been killed along with him.”

Finn stared sadly at her, brought his hand up to cup her face. “You’re a good woman, Lucy. You deserve better than me. I bring only misery and destruction to anyone I care about. Now you see why you should leave, get away from me?”

Lucy was already shaking her head. “No. You’re wrong, Finn. You are the best man I know. You are loyal, and brave, and strong. You have a kind heart and a warrior’s spirit. I’m not a little girl who knows nothing of the world. I’ve seen the evil that is out there. And I’ve seen the good. You, my love, are the best of them all. Sweet heaven, to have gone through all you’ve been through and to still have your capacity for love and kindness is a testament to just how amazing a man you are. If it takes me the rest of my life, I’m going to convince you of that.”

Finn started to shake his head, but Lucy grasped his face in her hands and forced him to look at her. “I’m a Richardson. We don’t back down and we never give up. You aren’t ever getting rid of me, Finnegan Taggart. Get used to it.”

A small grin broke through the frozen lines of his face and Finn crushed Lucy to him, wrapping his whole body around her. Lucy untangled herself enough to reach his lips, trying to put every ounce of love she felt into her kiss. She breathed him in, let her hands explore the planes of his body, ingraining every inch into her memory. She tried to put into words all the love she felt for him and when that failed her, she showed him with her body how much he meant to her.

Finn pulled her beneath him, brushed her hair out of her face. “I don’t deserve you.”

Lucy just smiled. “You’re right. You deserve someone far better than me.”

“Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree on that one.”

Lucy stretched beneath him and he bit his lip and bent to nuzzle her neck.

“Luckily, there are other things we can agree on.”

“Hmm,” Lucy purred. “Show me.”

“Gladly.”

He bent his head to kiss her.

Lucy heard Lilah’s scream seconds before the door burst open.

“Well, now isn’t this a cozy sight. Awfully inappropriate way to be treating your own cousin now, isn’t it, Taggart?”

Philip stood in the doorway, a gun trained on them.

“Halford! What are you doing here?”

Finn jumped out of bed, shoving his legs into his pants. He threw Lucy’s chemise at her, but when he reached for his shirt, and the gun that lay beneath it, Philip stopped him.

“I think you are decent enough,” he said, gesturing with his gun for Finn to move away from his weapon.

His gaze flicked to Lucy, his eyes lingering on her bare shoulders. The leer on his face made her skin crawl and she grabbed her chemise and dragged it on as quickly as she could. That was the only movement Philip allowed her.

“What do you want, Halford?”

Philip looked back at Finn. “A few, shall we say discrepancies in the stories you’ve told me have been made known to me. First of all, you,” he said, pointing the gun at Lucy, “aren’t exactly who you say you are. In fact, far from being our Mr. Taggart’s innocent cousin, you are not a Taggart at all, are you? Now, why you’d keep the fact that you are a Richardson from me is something I’d love to hear. But first I have a few matters I’d like to discuss with you,” he said, aiming the gun at Finn.

“It seems several of my men have gone missing. And you haven’t shown your face in my office since their disappearance. You can see why I assume you might have had something to do with it. When I couldn’t find you at the hotel, I naturally assumed you might be keeping your delightful cousin company.”

“You have no business being here. If you want me, fine. Wait outside and I’ll be along momentarily.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that. You see, it appears as though our dear Miss Taggart…excuse me, Miss Richardson, may have found herself in a bit of a compromising position the other night. I’m afraid I can’t let such a breach of manners go.”

Philip held up Lucy’s earring, smiling coldly at her.

“An earring doesn’t prove anything, Philip.”

“Oh, I think it does.” He cocked his head, scrutinizing her. “How ever did you come by those dreadful injuries? You do look appalling, my dear.”

Lucy surged up out of the bed, ignoring the pistol that was now aimed at her. “You know exactly what happened to me, Philip. And I’m fairly certain you know about the burned-out cross someone left at my school as well.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Yes, you do, you cowardly little worm of a man.”

Philip hissed and raised his arm a fraction higher. “You might want to watch your tongue, my dear. You are wearing my patience very thin.”

“Why should I? You don’t have the guts to do your own dirty work. Not with your face exposed to the world at least. Missing any bed sheets, are you?”

Philip sneered at her, his fury palpable. “You miserable little bitch.”

He raised the gun. Finn shouted and dove between them just as Philip fired. Finn jerked, crashing to the floor with a stream of blood running from his head.

Lucy screamed and crouched beside Finn, using her chemise to stanch the flow of blood.

“Don’t worry. You’re next.”

Philip raised his arm again. There was a loud cracking sound and Philip’s eyes widened. His mouth went slack and his eyes glazed over. The gun fell from his hand as he toppled forward onto the floor.

Lilah stood behind him, a heavy iron frying pan dangling from her hand.

“Lilah,” Lucy whispered.

“Is he dead?” she asked.

Lucy looked at Philip. The back of his head had been smashed nearly flat. His chest was motionless. But Lilah’s gaze wasn’t on Philip. It was on Finn.

“No,” Lucy said, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her fingers. “No, he’s not dead.”

“Good.” Lilah stood still in the doorway, her face blank. Lucy didn’t know if she was horrified or just stunned by what she’d just done. But they were going to have company very shortly and the maid couldn’t be found standing over Philip’s body with the murder weapon.

“Lilah, you need to go. Quickly. Whoever Philip brought with him will have heard the gunshot. They’ll be coming soon when he doesn’t reappear.”

She spoke more urgently, trying to break through the haze Lilah seemed to be in. “Lilah! Listen to me. You need to go. Take the frying pan and throw it away or hide it. But don’t be seen with it. Go. Now!”

Finally her words broke through. Lilah shook her head. “I can’t be leavin’ you. They’ll think you did this. You can’t take the blame.”

“I’ll be fine,” Lucy promised, though she didn’t know if she believed that or not. “I can explain. I’ll tell them it was self-defense. Finn has been shot and Philip was the one with the gun. That will prove it was self-defense. But if they see you, standing there like that…they won’t listen.”

Lilah nodded. She knew Lucy was right. “You’ll be all right?”

“I’ll be fine. Now go, quickly!”

Lilah turned and ran out of the bedroom. The back door off the kitchen slammed shut and Lucy prayed she’d get away before Philip’s men came.

It didn’t take long. Two men came in and Lucy’s heart dropped. There would be no bribing or bullying them into forgetting what they were seeing.

They took one look at Philip and Finn, in all his tattooed glory, lying half naked on the floor, and Lucy standing between them covered in blood.

And all hell broke loose.

Chapter Fifteen

The looks on the men’s faces would have been comical if it all wasn’t so tragic. They both pulled guns from beneath their coats and began shouting and searching for someone to point the weapons at. But there was no one but Finn, who was unconscious on the floor, and Lucy, a woman they obviously didn’t consider a threat. They finally seemed to work out that if Finn was incapacitated, then Lucy must have done the murderous deed.

One of them, an older portly gentleman with a waistcoat stretched so tightly across his midsection that Lucy feared the buttons would pop off, tried to wave her away from Finn, but she refused to budge. He seemed at a loss of what to do. He glanced at his partner.

“Make her move. We need to tie her up until the sheriff gets here.”

“I don’t know, Jed. She looks like she’s been worked over a bit, too. Maybe it wasn’t her.”

Lucy started at the name, her gaze shooting to the other man, who was younger, not quite as thick, though his waistcoat showed signs of strain as well.

“Jed?”

The younger man looked at her with a sneer.

“Have we met?” she asked, her voice dripping with ice and fury.

He smiled at her, like a cobra would smile at a fuzzy, white rabbit, and Lucy’s belly dropped. The older gentleman might hesitate to harm her, but this one…he wasn’t so conflicted and wanted her to know it. He didn’t answer her but turned back to his companion.

“Come on, Thomas. Who else could it be? The savage there couldn’t have done it. I doubt poor Halford could get off a shot after he got hit like that. Must have happened before, and there isn’t anyone else here who could have done it. Isn’t that right, missy?”

Lucy hesitated. She didn’t want to implicate Lilah. But she didn’t want to go to jail for a murder she didn’t commit either. She hadn’t really thought that far into her plan when she’d told Lilah to run though she knew that she had a better chance than Lilah of getting a fair hearing. She’d just have to tell as much of the truth as she could and hope that someone would believe her. She had no illusions about the two in front of her. Or at least about Jed. He looked like he’d gladly hang her right there and then.

“No, that isn’t right. I didn’t hurt Philip. He burst in and shot Finn and was going to attack me as well. Someone hit him over the head before he could and then ran. I…didn’t see who it was. I was too busy trying to help Finn.”

“Well now, that’s convenient, isn’t it?”

“Wait a minute. Did you say Finn? Is that Finn Taggart down there?” Thomas took a step forward, his gaping mouth creating a third chin as he stared down at Finn. “Well, I’ll be.”

“It doesn’t matter who is down there, Thomas. She killed him.”

“That’s Taggart, Jed. Something’s not adding up here. Taggart’s Halford’s right-hand man. Why would Halford shoot him?”

Jed looked at Lucy, his eyes roving over her from head to toe. “Oh, I reckon I could think of a few reasons.”

Thomas followed his gaze, frowning. “You think they’d try and kill each over a woman?”

“No, I don’t. I think Taggart was poaching Halford’s territory. Halford has been escorting her all over town. And you know the temper on him. So what do you think he’d do if he came in and saw that his best man had beat him to the prize, eh? She looks like she took a lick or two as well. I wouldn’t put it past Halford to teach the little trollop a lesson if she was stepping out on him. She always did seem a might too full of herself. Instead of taking what was coming to her like a good little girl, maybe she waited until Halford’s back was turned and then she done him in.”

Thomas looked dubious, but the first threads of worry for herself were edging through her fear for Finn. Jed’s story actually seemed fairly plausible. And it wasn’t far from the truth. Only Halford hadn’t done the beating and Lucy hadn’t done the killing. But Lucy didn’t know how many people would stop to listen to that. Jed’s theory explained everything and with Lucy and Finn already in custody, as she was sure they would both be shortly, it saved the authorities a lot of trouble.

Jed smiled at her, obviously coming to the same conclusion. “I think you’d better come with us, Miss Taggart.”

Lucy hesitated. She didn’t want to leave Finn lying there. And she had no intention of going anywhere in only a bloodstained chemise.

“I’m not going anywhere with the two of you.”

“Oh, yes you are,” Jed said, taking a menacing step toward her.

“You have no authority to make me go anywhere. I told you the truth. I didn’t kill Philip and obviously neither did Finn. If you don’t believe me, fine. Go and get the sheriff. But I’m not going anywhere with you.”

Jed ground his teeth and for a second Lucy thought he might force her to leave with him. But Thomas spoke up before Jed could do something stupid.

“She’s right, Jed. We can’t just haul her down to the jailhouse. Besides, the sheriff will want to have a look at all this.”

“Fine then,” Jed ground out. “Go and fetch him.”

Lucy’s sudden panic at being left alone must have shown on her face because Thomas hesitated.

“Perhaps it would be best if we sent someone else. That way we are both here as witnesses. So we can be sure nothing is tampered with.”

Thomas had a hard edge to his voice that wasn’t there before. Maybe he’d finally picked up on Jed’s hostility toward Lucy. Whether he thought she was a murderess or not, he was at least willing to spare her Jed’s particular brand of justice.

“Well then, send one of the Negroes that’s hanging around out in the front. There are enough of them to choose from. And send one of the women in here to help get this mess cleaned up.”

“I don’t think we should clean anything up until—”

“Fine, whatever! But we can’t just leave him lying there like that. He needs to be covered up or something.”

Thomas glanced between Jed and Lucy and then hurried out the door. Lucy tightened her hold on Finn, protecting him from anything Jed might do as much as needing the comfort.

Finn stirred and Lucy risked taking her eyes off Jed for a quick peek. Finn didn’t wake, but there was some color returning to his face. Lucy took that as a good sign.

Thomas was back in moments, towing a woman behind him. Lucy looked up and met Ruby’s gaze. Ruby glanced quickly about the room, took in Lucy in her blood-splattered clothing, Finn unconscious in her lap, and Philip dead on the floor, and nodded her head.

She grabbed a sheet off the bed and managed to shoo Jed and Thomas out the door so she could cover Philip with it. They stayed in the cottage, but they were out of Lucy’s eyesight and for that she was grateful.

Ruby grabbed a skirt and blouse and brought them over to Lucy. “I reckon you’ll be asked to go along with the lawmen once they get here, miss. Best be presentable.”

Lucy looked down at Finn.

“Don’t you worry about him. He’s a strong one. He be just fine. And he be the first to want you covered if you have to go with those men.”

Well, now that was the truth at least. Lucy eased Finn onto the floor, taking a last look at the wound on his head. The bleeding had nearly stopped and though Finn was pale, his breathing was slow and steady.

She stood and let Ruby help her get dressed. She would have liked to don a clean chemise, but she didn’t know how much time she had and would rather have a dress on top than a clean chemise underneath.

“Did you see Lilah?” Lucy asked.

“Don’t you worry none about her, neither. She got away safe. Thanks to you.”

“Good.” Lucy sighed. At least one person in this whole debacle would be out of harm’s way.

“You sure it was a good idea to send her away?”

Lucy nodded. “You know what would have happened to her if she’d stayed. They’ll at least listen to me. They might not believe me,” Lucy said with a tremulous smile, “but they’ll listen. They wouldn’t have given Lilah that courtesy. I doubt they’d have even taken her in for a trial.”

Ruby nodded, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re a good woman, Miz Lucy. You need anything, you just let me know.”

The sound of hoofbeats echoed from the courtyard and Lucy glanced down at Finn. “Take care of him for me.”

Then she walked out the door to face whatever consequences awaited her.

…

Finn woke slowly, the dull throbbing in his skull worsening the more aware he became. He risked cracking an eye open, blinking to clear his vision. He was still in Lucy’s house, in her bed.

Lucy!

He sat up, holding a hand to his head to keep it from exploding, and flipped the blankets back.

Ruby ran in, took one look at him, and attempted to shove him back under the covers. “Don’t you even think of it, Mr. Taggart. You get yourself right back in there.”

“Lucy…”

“Don’t you be worrin’ about her just now. You need to get yourself healed up or Miz Lucy’ll never forgive me.”

Finn gently pushed her away and stood up, leaning a hand against the headboard until his head stopped spinning. It still throbbed, but it was manageable. “Where is she?”

Ruby pursed her lips. “Lord, but you’re a stubborn man.”

“Ruby…”

She held her hands up in defeat. “All right, all right. But here, drink this.” She shoved a glass of water from the bedside table at him. Finn accepted it and drank, grateful for the coolness that washed away the feeling of cotton in his mouth. The water helped the ache in his head a bit too. Now…

Ruby frowned. “She’s down at the jailhouse.”

“She’s what?” Finn shouted, flinching at the renewed pain in his temples.

“She been arrested for murderin’ Mr. Halford.”

Finn sank to the bed, too stunned to react.

Ruby took a cautious step forward. “You all right, Mr. Finn?”

“Halford’s dead?”

Ruby nodded, her worry still creasing her forehead.

“Lucy killed him?”

“No…” Ruby said hesitantly.

“Lilah?” Ruby didn’t answer, but Finn already knew the answer. If Lucy hadn’t done it, there was no one else who could have. Or would have.

“Why was Lucy arrested?”

“His men found her in here, covered in blood.”

“Blood? Was she hurt?”

“No, sir. It was your blood.”

“Oh,” Finn said, putting his hand to his head. The pain creasing through it had faded in the wake of Ruby’s revelation. It was still present, but compared to the pain lancing through his heart, it didn’t matter.

It was happening again. The woman he loved had been left to face her mortal enemy while he’d be out cold on the ground. Arrested for the murder of a prominent politician? She’d been found with the body, with no witnesses to prove anyone else had done the deed. They’d hang her for sure.

Bile rose in Finn’s throat and he stumbled out of the bedroom into the kitchen. He went straight for the whiskey he’d seen on Lucy’s shelf. She wasn’t a drinker. She probably used it for medicinal purposes only. But he needed it now.

He wrenched off the cap and took a slug that made his eyes water. The smooth fire running down his throat burned off some of the panic that was clouding his mind and he took another drink.

Ruby stood watching him, her arms crossed over her chest. “That won’t help anyone, especially Miz Lucy. You try to see her with you all covered in blood and stumblin’ drunk and they’ll lock you up right along with her. What good will that do anybody?”

“I have no intention of getting drunk,” Finn said, taking one last pull on the bottle before replacing it on the shelf. He could hold his liquor. His stepfather had let him take shots of his whiskey before he was old enough to shave. But it did steady him, calmed the nerves that were wrangling out of control.

He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

Finn took a deep breath, shoving his roiling emotions back in the deep corner of his heart, and started for the door.

“Where you goin’?” Ruby asked.

“To get Lucy the hell out of that jail.”

“You can’t go lookin’ like that!”

Finn looked down and realized that he was still wearing his bloodstained pants.

“I patched up your head but you didn’t have new clothes here. Sam’s gone to the hotel to fetch your things. He’ll be back soon.”

Finn closed his eyes, breathing deeply through the urge to bolt from the house. His panic over Lucy hovered just under the surface and it took every ounce of strength he had to keep it from overwhelming him.

Luckily, Sam entered carrying a small case of clothing. Finn nodded his thanks and grabbed the case. Sam talked to him through the door of the bedroom as he changed his soiled clothing.

“I checked in at the jailhouse. Figured you’d want word of Miz Lucy.”

Bless the man. “How is she?”

“They wouldn’t let me in. Said visitin’ weren’t allowed ’til three. But I got a cousin that works for the sheriff, cleaning up the cells and such. He tole me Miz Lucy doin’ as fine as can be expected. She look scared, but she holdin’ up real well.”

Finn stopped, his hands twitching with the fury and fear that flooded him. His Lucy was sitting in a cell, scared and alone. And he’d be damned if he’d let them keep him away from her.

Once he’d gotten dressed and looked somewhat respectable, he threw the door open and stalked out.

“Thanks, Sam.”

Sam nodded, following behind him as Finn stormed outside and went to his horse.

“You can’t go visitin’ for another hour, Mr. Finn.”

“I don’t care when visiting hours are, Sam.”

Finn swung up into his saddle ignoring the worried looks Sam and Ruby exchanged.

“Now, Mr. Finn, I know you want to go bustin’ in there, but it just won’t do nobody any good,” Ruby said. “But Miz Lucy goin’ to be needin’ more help than you can give her. She needs one of them fancy lawyers, and I’m sure she’d feel better if her family could be here with her. Somebody needs to be seein’ to those things.”

Finn nearly screamed his frustration out loud. Ruby was right. He knew she was. But the only thing he wanted was to ride straight to that jail and get Lucy out of there.

“I’ll go with you to the telegraph station, sir. And then we can go to the jail. If they still won’t let you in, maybe my cousin can arrange somethin,” Sam offered.

Finn sat for a moment, his horse pawing at the ground in imitation of Finn’s agitation.

Finally, Finn nodded. As much as he’d like to tear that jailhouse down brick by brick, that just wasn’t going to happen. Lucy’s best chance was for her highfalutin lawyer to come and get her out of this mess. And she would feel much better with her sisters here.

Sam released a sigh of relief and ran to mount his horse. Finn pulled his horse around and thundered off toward town, Sam close on his heels.

…

Lucy paced the jail cell, worry over Finn eating at her until she felt she’d go mad from it. She hadn’t heard from anyone, hadn’t even seen anyone since the sheriff had locked her in the cell. They were treating her as if…well, as if she’d just bashed in a man’s head with a frying pan.

She slumped onto the narrow cot shoved against the wall. They hadn’t even let her wash the blood from her hands. She’d wiped them down as best she could before they’d taken her off, but there was still blood caked beneath her fingernails and a few odd spots here and there. She rubbed at her hands, watching the tiny flakes of Finn’s blood flutter to the floor.

Where was he? How was he? The bullet had only grazed him, but it had bled so horribly. Had he woken yet? She had no idea what had happened to him.

Everything after the sheriff and his men had arrived was a bit of a blur. They’d marched in, and any sympathy they’d had for Lucy disappeared once they had seen Philip’s body. Unfortunately, they seemed to be subscribing to Jed’s interpretation of the scene and nothing that Lucy said prevailed. No matter that Philip was the one who was trespassing on her property, with a loaded weapon that he’d used to shoot Finn. Since Lucy had been openly courting Philip, the consensus seemed to be that Philip had every right to lose his mind in a fit of jealousy over finding Lucy with Finn.

Lucy’s true identity had been revealed as well, a fact that made anyone inclined to give her the benefit of the doubt change their minds. Here she’d been in their midst all this time, masquerading as Finn’s cousin when in fact she was Miss Lucy Richardson, a lying Yankee who couldn’t be trusted. Coupled with the fact that she’d been found with a naked Finn in her bedroom and Lucy’s stature was vastly reduced in their eyes. She was no longer an innocent young woman who needed to be coddled and protected. She was a wanton, deceitful woman who’d seduced not one but two men, and had driven them to this bloody battle. And since there was no one else coming forward to confess to the murder, Lucy had been formally arrested and charged with the murder of Philip Halford.

She couldn’t blame them really. But that didn’t stop the fear from gnawing at her.

The outer door opened and Lucy went to the barred door of her cell, straining to see who had come.

When she saw Finn walk around the corner, she nearly collapsed in relief.

“You’re all right,” she said, sticking her hand through the bars to grasp his.

Finn raised her hand to his lips and put his hand through the bars to caress her cheek.

“How are you?” he asked.

“I’m fine. I’ve been worried about you. But other than that, I’m fine.”

“They haven’t been mistreating you?”

“No. In fact, I haven’t seen anyone at all since they locked me in here. What is happening? They aren’t arresting you, are they?”

Finn shook his head. “They’d like to, but try as they might, they couldn’t come up with a plausible story to explain how I could have been shot after hitting Halford. The only logical explanation is that he shot first and then someone else attacked him…which proves my innocence.”

His worried eyes met Lucy’s and Lucy tightened her grip on his hand. “But my innocence isn’t so easy to prove, hmm?”

Finn’s face hardened. “We will prove it. You didn’t do anything. I’m not going to let you be charged for someone else’s crime.”

Lucy smiled at him, hoped it reached her eyes. She appreciated his sentiment, but they both knew that proving her innocence would be difficult. If not impossible. If she hadn’t been in that room, even she wouldn’t believe in her innocence. For a split second, she wished she hadn’t sent Lilah away. She was instantly overcome with shame. Lilah would probably not even have had the benefit of a trial. Judging by the number of men who had come to visit her school what seemed like a lifetime ago, Lucy was only too sure there were plenty of folks who would have meted out their vigilante justice before cooler heads could prevail.

At least Lucy had a fighting chance. She hoped.

“It might be time to contact my sisters,” Lucy said.

Finn ran his thumb over her bruised cheek. “I already wired them. They wouldn’t let me come in until three,” he said, his voice thick with anger. “So I used the time to send a few telegrams. I also contacted a friend of mine, Mr. William Fitzhugh. He’s one of the best lawyers in these parts. He should be here shortly.”

“Thank you, Finn.”

Finn shook his head and looked down, swallowing audibly a few times. “I’m so sorry, Lucy.”

Lucy’s eyes widened and she gripped his hand tighter, reaching through the bars to cup his face and bring his gaze back to hers. “For what?”

“This is my fault.”

“How on earth do you figure that?”

“I should have stayed away from you. I knew I’d only bring you trouble. If I hadn’t been there…”

“In case you haven’t noticed, I seem to be fairly adept at getting myself into trouble.” She pointed to her battered face with a wry smile, but Finn flinched.

“Finn, it was only a matter of time before Philip confronted me, or I him. The only reason I allowed him to court me was so I could pry into his affairs and I’m fairly certain he knew that. This,” she said, indicating her face, “happened because I was too careless when I was butting my nose into his business. And what happened at my house…that was no one’s fault but Philip’s. He was the trespasser. He was the aggressor. He attacked you. We did nothing wrong. And I wouldn’t give back a second of my time with you for anything in the world.”

Finn leaned his forehead against the bars and Lucy did the same, hating the feel of the cold metal pressed against her skin. But she could feel some of Finn’s warmth as well. It would have to be enough. For now.

“I must go for a bit. Mr. Fitzhugh is coming in on the six o’clock train and I’m sure your sisters will be on their way as well. I need to see if they’ve left any messages.”

He tilted Lucy’s head up, his fingers gently stroking from her jaw down her neck. “I can’t stand to leave you in here.”

Lucy forced a smile. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

Finn leaned his head against the bars and pressed his lips to hers. “I’ll be back as quickly as I can.”

She nodded and watched him walk away.

Lucy managed to keep her tears at bay until he’d disappeared from sight. She was going to have to be strong if she was going to get through this, strong enough to fight against those who would bring her down. Strong enough to convince Finn and her sisters, who she’d never been able to lie to, that she was confident and optimistic. Strong enough to convince herself.

But for now, for this moment, she’d let the weakness out. Get it out of her system so she could move past it. Because if she didn’t get rid of it, it would bury her under the waves of despair and fear that threatened to consume her.

Standing on tiptoe so she could see outside, she watched as Finn came into view. He climbed into a waiting carriage and rode away.

When she could no longer see the carriage in the distance, Lucy sank to the floor and sobbed.

Chapter Sixteen

Finn paced the platform, waiting for the train that would bring Lucy’s family. They’d been fortunate that Cilla and Leo had already been on the East Coast, visiting Leo’s family in Maryland. Brynne and Richard had met up with them there and the foursome would be pulling into the station any minute.

When Finn heard the telltale whistle of the train as it approached the station, he stopped pacing, standing rigid as the train came into view. His stomach churned. He’d barely eaten or slept since Lucy had been in jail. Lucy was his responsibility. He was the reason she was in trouble, and he was going to make damn sure that Lucy went free, no matter the cost or the stakes. If her sisters could aid him in that, all the better. He wasn’t too proud to accept help from her formidable family. But no matter what, he’d see Lucy safe.

Then again, the last time he’d seen Brynne, he’d been trying to collect a ransom for kidnapping her daughter. They hadn’t exactly parted on the best of terms. No matter what Lucy said, Finn was still fairly certain Brynne would stake him through the heart as soon as look at him. But he needed help and Lucy needed her family. So, he’d just have to make sure Brynne’s anger stayed focused on getting Lucy out of danger. Then she could have at him.

The train pulled to a stop and Finn squared his shoulders, mentally preparing for their arrival. He didn’t have to wait long.

Cilla descended first, followed by her husband Leo. They’d never met, but Finn would know him anywhere. He looked very much like his brother Jake.

Finn went to them and stuck out his hand. “Mr. Forrester?”

Leo nodded and shook his hand. “You must be Mr. Taggart.”

“Yes, sir.”

Finn glanced at Cilla who was watching him thoughtfully, sizing him up. A natural thing to do, he supposed, seeing as how they were aware of his past with Lucy and her feelings for him. Though he couldn’t help but feel she was taking his measure, not as a mate for her sister, but as an opponent on the battlefield.

Another man joined their group. He was tall and blond, with a pair of smart spectacles perched on his nose. Finn had forgotten he had someone else to be wary of. Richard Oliver was now Coraline’s stepfather and had just as much reason as Brynne to despise Finn. But Richard approached him calmly, only a slight narrowing of his eyes indicating he wasn’t entirely pleased to see Finn again.

Finn offered his hand. “Dr. Oliver.”

Richard nodded and shook Finn’s hand, though his expression was decidedly cool.

Richard turned to help his wife from the train, and Finn could no longer avoid the moment he’d been dreading.

Brynne stood before him, her gaze skewering him where he stood.

“Mrs. Oliver,” he said, bowing his head a little, waiting for whatever she had to say. It had been a long time coming and he deserved every word.

Brynne eyed him up and down. “You look different without the tattoos showing.”

Finn nodded, wary of her and a bit thrown off guard by the fact that she hadn’t immediately attacked him. It had been several years, and Lucy had said that Brynne had forgiven him. Still…

“I like you better with them,” she added.

Finn’s lips twitched. “So do I. They do tend to make a man stand out though, and that’s not something I want to do down here.”

Brynne nodded. Her eyes zeroed in on the bruised and barely healed bullet wound on his head. “She try to shoot you?”

Finn couldn’t help the smile that broke out. “No, ma’am. Someone tried to shoot her.”

Brynne snorted. “Sounds about right. You put your own head in the way to protect her?”

Finn nodded.

“Is this mess she’s in your doing?”

Finn wasn’t sure how to answer that one. He hesitated and Brynne cocked an eyebrow.

“Yes and no.”

The eyebrow raised higher. “Care to explain?”

“Brynne, leave the poor man alone,” Cilla said. “You and I both know Lucy is more than capable of getting herself into a scrape like this. It’s not like she’s the only one of us to be arrested for a murder she didn’t commit. We just have a knack for life-threatening tomfoolery. Can’t blame Mr. Taggart here for that.”

Brynne muttered something about her sisters being the death of her.

Finn’s lips twitched. The Richardson sisters were quite a trio. “I wasn’t directly responsible. But the man who attacked us was my boss and Lucy had…gotten on his bad side. She’d never have crossed his path if she hadn’t been trying to get me to admit that I love her, so in a roundabout way, yes, this is my fault.”

“And do you? Love her?” Brynne asked.

Finn frowned, his mouth hanging open. Her question was so unexpected, he wasn’t sure at first he’d heard her correctly. “Pardon?”

“Do you love her?” she asked again, her fists on her hips.

Finn hadn’t admitted it out loud yet and knew if he was going to say it to anyone, it should be to Lucy. But after everything he’d put her family through, no matter his reasons for doing it, he’d do anything for them. Answering a question that would put Brynne’s mind at ease was the least he could do.

“Yes, ma’am. I do. Very much.”

Brynne nodded again, apparently happy with his answers. “Well, then Mr. Taggart. I’d appreciate it if you could take us to the jailhouse.”

Richard stepped forward. “Brynne, we should stop by the hotel first. It’s been a long journey. You should rest a bit before we go over.”

Brynne just looked at her husband. Cilla and Leo had turned their faces to hide their smiles and even Finn knew the poor man was going to lose this argument before it even began.

Richard drew his wife into his arms with an amused sigh and kissed her forehead. “You can’t blame a man for trying.”

“I most certainly could,” she said, though her fond tone took the sting from her words.

“This way,” Finn said, leading the way to the carriage he had waiting. He gave instructions for the boy he’d brought with him to have the Richardsons’ and Forresters’ luggage brought to the hotel where he’d already reserved a suite of rooms for them, and then held the door to the carriage open so they could climb inside.

They passed the short ride to the jailhouse in relative silence, each lost in their own thoughts. The momentary brevity at the station dissipated the closer to the jail they came. When they alighted in the jail’s courtyard, the full gravity of the situation had overcome them once again.

Finn led the way. There was a short delay at the front desk because the officer in charge didn’t want to allow the visitors access to Lucy unless they’d been thoroughly searched. Brynne stood there and stared the man down until he turned beet red and let them through with a cursory pat for the men and a polite nod for the women. Then, finally, they were led back to Lucy’s cell.

…

Lucy heard the outer door open and sat up on her bunk, leaning forward to see who it was. Her lawyer had already been by earlier that morning. Their case was made more difficult since there were no witnesses, as Lucy refused to tell him Lilah’s identity, to testify to Lucy’s innocence, but Mr. Fitzhugh was still measurably hopeful they’d be able to exonerate her. Lucy wasn’t quite so sure, but she was willing to go along with him for now. What else could she do?

When she saw her sisters walk through the door, she jumped from her bunk with a glad cry. Cilla and Brynne rushed to the door, waiting impatiently for the officer to open it, then fairly shoved the man aside so they could get to Lucy.

Lucy was smothered in two sets of arms. The men wisely stayed back. The sisters were all crying and talking at once, hugs and kisses and exclamations of love and exasperation at Lucy’s predicament flying about the room until Lucy finally had to wave her sisters back so she could get a word in edge wise.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she said, giving them both a firm hug and a kiss on the cheek. “You can’t even imagine how happy I am to see you.”

“Yes, we can,” Cilla said with a smile. “Now, would you care to fill us in on exactly how our baby sister came down to North Carolina to find an old friend and ended up in jail for murder?”

Lucy took a deep breath and launched into the tale, leaving out nothing. When she’d finished, Brynne and Cilla glanced at each other, and then back to her.

“Mr. Taggart has informed us that you’ve retained a lawyer,” Brynne said. “What does he say about all this?”

Lucy shrugged. “He’s optimistic. I have no criminal past…” Cilla’s eyebrows raised, the scar bisecting her left brow exaggerating her surprised look, and Lucy rolled her eyes and continued, “that anyone knows about. While here, I’ve been a good member of the community. The fact that I started the school could both help and hurt us, he thinks, depending on who’s on the jury. On one hand, it shows my ‘charitable’ nature. But on the other hand…”

“On the other hand,” Cilla filled in, “if you get a bunch of bigoted old-timers, the fact that you started a school to teach Negroes will go against you.”

“Right.”

“No one is questioning that Philip was the one who shot Finn, so Finn at least is safe from suspicion since it’s a bit impossible for him to have bashed Philip in the head from behind after being shot. Believe me, I wasn’t sure there for a while. When we were found, Finn didn’t have his tattoos covered, which gave everyone a bit of a shock. I’m sure if they could have pinned some blame on him, they would have. But there simply isn’t any way to make an accusation stick, so that’s a good bit of news.”

“Sure. Good for Finn. But it doesn’t help you,” Richard said.

Lucy shot him a dirty look.

“Now don’t go getting angry at Richard for just saying what we’re all thinking. It’s fine and dandy for Taggart to be above suspicion, but that still leaves you as the only suspect,” Brynne said.

“Why can’t you just tell them who really killed the man?” Leo asked. “Surely you must know.”

“Of course I know. But I can’t reveal who it is. She was only trying to protect me and I’m not going to let her hang for that.”

“Lucy,” Brynne said, drawing Lucy down to sit beside her and Cilla on the bench. “I know you want to protect this woman, but I think it’s time for you to face the facts. You could be the one on the end of the rope. Are you prepared to just give up and die to keep her identity a secret?”

Lucy looked at Finn, a lump forming in her throat. “Of course I don’t want to die. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life, or even one more moment behind these bars. And I have no intention of just giving up. But there has to be some way of proving my innocence without giving her up in the process.”

“Lucy,” Finn said, kneeling down in front of her, “I spoke with Fitzhugh after he left you this morning. It doesn’t look good. There was no one else there. If you don’t tell them who really killed Halford, then in their minds, there is no one else who could have done it but you. Don’t you see that? If you don’t tell them who really killed him, you’ll be the one hanging.”

“Finn, I can’t…”

“We have the best lawyer in the South on our side. And what happened to Halford was self-defense. Hell, no one is even questioning that the man shot me. That proves it was self-defense! There is no guarantee that she’ll hang for this.”

“And there’s no guarantee that I will either. So why can’t we just argue that defense for me? I’ve got a much better chance with a jury than she will.”

“Because you have other motives for wanting him dead.”

Lucy’s blood ran cold. She’d never considered that the prosecution might have an actual case against her. She hadn’t confessed and other than finding her with the body, covered in blood, and she knew how damning that looked, she didn’t think they had anything on her.

“What possible motives could I have for wanting Philip dead? As far as the community was concerned, we were courting.”

“Exactly. You were courting him and then were found in bed with me.”

Brynne sucked in an angry breath and Lucy sighed. “Don’t lecture me about that now, Brynne. You can give me the moral-deprivation sermon later.”

Brynne’s eyes narrowed, though her glare was directed at Finn, but she waved them on.

“So,” Lucy continued, “because I was found with you, they think that is motive for murder?”

Finn grimaced and pulled a newspaper clipping out of his pocket. “I didn’t want to show you these…”

He handed them to her and Lucy quickly read the article. The headline, Schoolmistress Kills City Icon to Hide Illicit Affair had her ready to chew glass before getting two sentences into the article. The so-called article was a sordid description painting her as a wanton hussy who’d set out to seduce the goodly Mr. Halford. He’d caught her in the arms of a savage, in the midst of some devilishly heathen lovemaking, they were sure to point out. Lucy, in a rage at Mr. Halford’s rightful rejection of her upon discovering her betrayal, had killed him.

Lucy stared at the offensive trash in her hands. “Surely no one believes this filth?”

“Enough do. And it’ll only take twelve to convict you.”

“Lucy,” Cilla said, taking her sister’s hands. “You’ve got to tell them who really did this. I promise you we will do everything in our power to keep her safe. But your life is our priority here. And I think you need to seriously consider the possibility that you will be found guilty.”

Lucy looked at Brynne and then at Richard and Leo. And finally at Finn.

“Only if you promise me that she won’t hang. Even if we have to bust her out of here and go on the run. Promise me.”

Finn took her face in his hands. “I swear to you, I will not let her hang for this.”

Lucy stared into his eyes for a long moment. Nausea from guilt and fear rose in her gut, and she swallowed several times, trying to calm the furious pounding of her heart.

They were right though. She’d be found guilty. She would die.

Finally she nodded. “All right.”

Finn crushed her to him. “It will be all right, love. For both of you.” He set her from him so he could look into her eyes again. “I swear it.”

“I hope you’re right.”

Chapter Seventeen

Finn flipped through the telegrams in his hand, though reading them again wouldn’t change the messages they contained. He balled them up and threw them to the floor, not caring about the startled look the telegraph operator gave him.

Nothing. Richard and Leo and the team of men they’d hired to help search for Lilah had once again come up empty. They hadn’t found one single solitary sign of Lilah. She had just vanished into thin air. No one had seen her and none of her friends and family would admit to knowing anything.

The rotten part of it was that Finn believed them. They seemed just as worried about Lilah and just as distressed over Lucy as Finn and Lucy’s sisters. While they might not be too keen on Lilah turning herself in, they did very much want to help Lucy.

Finn raked his hand through his hair, trying to calm the growing panic in his gut. The case against Lucy was circumstantial, but it was a good one. Hell, if he was on the jury and heard the prosecution’s salacious tale, he’d be riveted to his seat…and then he’d probably convict Lucy of murder.

She’d pled not guilty, of course, and her lawyer was making no secret of the fact that they were claiming that a third party had killed Halford in self-defense. But without any proof…well, it wasn’t looking good.

Finn took a deep breath, shoved his emotions back into the dark pit they’d escaped from, and set off to deliver his bad news.

Brynne and Cilla took it about as he suspected. Brynne stared wide-eyed into the fire, seemingly in shock, though Finn knew her mind was thinking up and rejecting a hundred different options behind that blank stare.

Cilla was wearing a hole in the rug with her pacing. Finally, she stopped and threw up her hands.

“This is ridiculous! We can’t just let them convict Lucy of murder.”

Brynne blinked, completely unsurprised by her sister’s outburst. “And just what do you suggest we do about it? March into the jail and demand her immediate release? Or perhaps we should organize an escape plan and spirit her away in the middle of the night.”

“Yes! If that’s our only option, then hell yes. Let’s bust in there and get her.”

Brynne sighed and sank back into the couch. “And what happens after that? Assuming we could get her out of there in the first place, and manage to get her out of the city without being caught, what then? Where will she go?”

“The same place you were going to send me when I was locked up for murders I didn’t commit. She can go down to Mexico. Carmen and Miguel still have family there. They’d welcome her.”

“When you were arrested, it was in California. Mexico wasn’t that far away. Carmen’s family is on the west coast of Mexico and we are on the east coast of the United States. It would take weeks to reach them, months maybe. And in the meantime, everyone and their blind Aunt Molly will be looking for her.”

“So let them look! We’ll hide her. If Mexico is too far away, send her up to Canada. Or we could smuggle her onto a boat and ship her to the Continent. You, Finn, you’re from Ireland, you could take her there.”

“I haven’t been to Ireland since I was a child. Besides, getting her onto a boat and keeping her undetected throughout the voyage would be difficult,” Finn said, hating to speak against her idea. He was all for spiriting Lucy away. But he wasn’t sure where they could go where she’d be safe, if they could get her away at all.

“Difficult, but not impossible,” Cilla insisted.

“Cilla,” Brynne said, “this case is already the most notorious case the state has seen in a very long time. Her portrait has been splashed all over the papers with all those horrible articles. Lucy would have to look over her shoulder for the rest of her life, always worried that someone might recognize her and turn her in.”

“Well at least she’d be alive enough to worry!” Cilla stood glaring at her sister, her breath coming in short pants. “I can’t believe you’re just willing to sit there and give up. You blew up half a town to save me from the end of a rope but you’re not even willing to discuss doing the same for Lucy.”

“Oh, Cilla.” Brynne stood and pulled her sister’s rigid body into her arms. Cilla resisted for a moment and then let Brynne hold her. After a minute, Brynne pulled away and led Cilla to the sofa with her. She patted the seat beside her and waited until Cilla took a seat before continuing.

“First of all, I’d gladly blow up half this cursed town if it would save Lucy’s life. But it wouldn’t, and you know that. Bethany Ridge was different. It’s a tiny town in the middle of the Californian wilderness. We were basically on our own out there, so blowing up a few buildings and disrupting a hanging or two was a little more feasible out there. But this is Charlotte. It’s a big city with a lot of people living in it. Staging a prison break would be a little more difficult to achieve out here.”

“But not impossible,” Cilla insisted.

Brynne looked thoughtful and a sliver of unease wormed its way into the ball of misery that used to be Finn’s heart.

“No,” she finally said. “Not impossible. We’d just have to be more careful about it.”

“Wait,” Finn said. “You two aren’t seriously proposing we break Lucy out of jail.”

Two sets of chocolate-brown eyes gazed at him.

“It’ll never work, and then she’ll be in even more trouble than she is now. Running only makes her look guilty.”

Cilla snorted. “If you’re too much of a coward to help my sister, then you can leave.”

“My courage isn’t what’s in question here. It’s your judgment. Brynne is right, even if we could get Lucy out of there, hiding her away forever would be next to impossible.”

Cilla rolled her eyes. “You were raised by natives and have been working with smugglers for years. I’d be willing to bet the whole gold mine that you’d be very capable of taking Lucy and disappearing.”

“Yes. I could. But is that what you really want? Is it what she’ll want?”

“She wants to live.”

“What kind of living would that be? You’d never see her again. We’d have to disappear and never return. Preferably to a foreign country where the government here couldn’t touch her. Is that what you want for her? Because I guarantee you that’s not what she wants for herself.”

“At least she’d be free.”

“Free to do what? Be on the run for the rest of her life? She could never have children. What kind of life would that be for them? She’d never see her family again, her home, the people and things she loves. What kind of a life is that?”

Cilla fumed, but she before she could speak again, Brynne cut in. “He’s right.”

“What?” Cilla asked, her face flaming red.

“He’s right, Cilla. And you know it. Lucy wouldn’t want to live like that.”

“At least she’d live!”

Finn flinched at her words, but he didn’t say anything, waiting silently with Brynne until Cilla calmed down. The fight had gone out of her with those last words. She knew what she was proposing was futile. If Finn thought for a moment it would work, he’d already be breaking down the jailhouse doors.

“We still have time,” Brynne said quietly. “Richard and Leo are still out searching. And a jury might realize that Lucy is telling the truth and is innocent. She hasn’t been convicted of anything just yet.”

Finn nodded, fiery determination burning in his gut. “But if she is,” he said, meeting Cilla’s gaze, “then we’ll talk.”

Cilla nodded and gave him a slow smile.

Finally, they agreed on something.

…

The next time the cell door opened, Finn entered alone. Lucy took him in, her gaze hungrily raking over every inch of him. He stood at the door to the cell for a moment and just looked at her. Then he opened his arms and Lucy rushed to him, burying her face in his chest and breathing him in as he enveloped her in his embrace.

Every time she saw him she wondered if it would be the last. Would he decide that standing by her side was too much trouble? Too dangerous for him? And what if she was convicted? She didn’t want him wasting his life waiting for her. Or worse yet, watching while she was executed.

“Come here,” Finn said, drawing her to the narrow bunk against the wall.

He sat down, pulling her onto his lap. She curled against him, taking comfort from the steady beating of his heart. He ran his hand up and down her back.

“How are you doing?” he asked.

Lucy considered lying, telling him she was fine. He probably wouldn’t believe her though.

“And don’t tell me you’re fine,” he added.

Lucy laughed. “No, I’m not fine. I’m angry and uncomfortable and worried about the trial. But I am happy to see you.”

Finn kissed the top of her head. “I tried to bribe the sheriff into letting me move in but he didn’t bite.”

Lucy snuggled closer. “Maybe we just need to offer him more money.”

“It’s worth a try.” He kissed her forehead. “Though this bed is far too narrow.” His lips brushed her cheek. “We’d definitely need something larger.”

“Definitely,” Lucy murmured, lifting her face to meet his lips.

Finn crushed her to him and Lucy wrapped her arms around his neck, starving for his touch.

“Hey!” a guard shouted.

Lucy jumped, but Finn kept her firmly planted on his lap.

“None of that, you hear? Or you’ll be out of there right quick.”

Finn glared at the officer but Lucy nodded. The guards had treated her fairly well for the most part and the last thing Lucy wanted was to lose any privileges, like being allowed visitors well past regular hours.

She gently extricated herself from Finn’s arms, though doing so felt like she was amputating part of herself, and sat beside him on the cot.

She shushed his growl of protest. “Hush. There’ll be plenty of time for all that when I’m out of here.”

Finn’s lips tightened and Lucy’s stomach dropped. She’d known he hadn’t had good news when he’d walked through her cell door. Still, she’d hoped she was wrong. “What is it?” she asked. “You can’t find her, can you?”

Finn shook his head and got up. He paced the cell, his long stride eating up the small space in two steps. “We’ve looked everywhere. Asked at the train stations, at every establishment within twenty miles of here. Richard and Leo are still searching with a team of men we’ve hired, combing every roadside shelter in every direction she might have gone. No one has seen her.”

“Well,” Lucy said, looking down at her hands. She tried to force as much cheerful optimism into her voice as she could, though she was far from feeling any. “I told her to disappear. Can hardly blame her for obeying me.” She gave him a weak smile.

“Yes, I can. You are very likely going to be convicted of a murder you didn’t commit and while I’m grateful to her for saving your life that day, it’s doing you little good now if you are going to hang for it!”

Lucy stood and went to him, placing her palms on his chest to stop his pacing. She looked up into the face she adored, into the eyes that she saw every time she closed her own. “I can’t fault her for trying to save her own life. I still have a chance. A good one, I think. I’m innocent and there is no evidence to suggest that I’m not.”

Finn cupped her face in his hands. “They don’t need evidence, Lucy. A pillar of their community was killed and they want blood for it. Anyone’s blood. They don’t care whose it is. They don’t care if you are innocent or not. There is no one else to blame, and so they’ll blame you. And I’ll lose you.”

His voice cracked and he swallowed hard and drew her nearer.

“We don’t know what will happen,” she insisted, reaching up to cover his hands with her own. “And for now we still have each other. We haven’t lost each other yet.”

“It’s not enough.” He leaned down and kissed her. “An eternity wouldn’t be enough.”

Lucy kissed him, molding herself as tightly to him as she could. He was right. She could have a lifetime of days and nights with him and would still ache for more.

“Come on,” she said, drawing him back to the cot. “Talk to me.”

Finn’s eyebrows rose. “About what?” He settled down beside her, keeping her hands in his.

“Anything. What are we going to do once I’m out of here? Where will we go?”

“Lucy…”

“You asked me to run away with you not too long ago. Where were you going to take me?”

Finn’s thumb rubbed over her knuckles, back and forth. “I thought we could go back to California, so you could be near your family.”

“To the ranch?”

Finn nodded and gave her a faint smile. “I’ve never seen it. But Jake told me about it, in his letters. He loved it there.” Finn laughed. “I thought perhaps your sister was a witch who’d bespelled him because never in all my born days would I have believed that Jacob Forrester would want to settle down with a girl and raise babies.”

Lucy smiled. “Well, we Richardsons can be a formidable bunch. Once Brynne had decided she wanted him, he hardly stood a chance.”

“That’s true enough. A stubborn lot, all three of you.”

Lucy looked at their entwined hands, her heart skipping with each soft brush of his fingers over hers. “It’s strange to think that you were so close to me, but we didn’t meet. Of course, had you met me then you would have run for the hills as fast as your feet could carry you.”

“Love, I’ve been trying to make a run for it since the moment I clapped eyes on you.”

Lucy gasped in mock outrage and slapped at him, but he smiled and pulled her back into his arms. “But no matter how hard I tried to stay away, something in those big brown eyes of yours keeps pulling me back.”

“Well, I’m grateful for that at least. But when I get out of here I’m going to invest in a strong pair of chains to keep you from ever running again.”

“I’ll wear them gladly if they will keep you shackled to me. You get into entirely too much trouble when you are left to run amuck on your own.”

“That sounds heavenly to me.”

The guard came bustling back in and opened the cell door. “Time is up.”

Finn stood, drawing Lucy up with him. Lucy clung to him, panic clawing at her. She was suddenly terrified that if he walked out that door, she’d never see him again.

He pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace, kissing her until her head spun. He pulled away just far enough so he could whisper in her ear. “The fight isn’t over yet. Lilah or no Lilah, I will not let you hang.”

He kissed her one last time and strode out the door, a new purpose in his step. Lucy watched him go with hope and terror warring in her heart.

For now, at least, the hope won, and for the first time in many days, she was able to sleep.

Chapter Eighteen

Finn watched as the woman darted across the street, holding her cloak tight about her against the cold night air. He waited until she came to the door of the dilapidated building where she’d been living, and then he stepped from the shadows.

“Lilah.”

She gave a muffled shriek and clapped her hands over her mouth. “Mr. Finn, that you?”

“Yes. I’m sorry I frightened you.”

Lilah rocked on her feet, her eyes darting around.

He held up a hand like he was trying to calm a skittish horse. “I’m alone. I just want to talk to you.”

Lilah studied him and then nodded. She led him inside and he waited until she’d lit a lone candle and waved him into a chair by her cold hearth before he said anything.

He didn’t waste any time but came right to the point. “She’s going to hang.”

Lilah blanched, her face puckering in distress. “I gotta come back. I can’t let her hang, not for me. I’ll come back. I’ll tell them I done it.”

“It’s not quite that simple,” Finn said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “If the judge even allowed you to testify, none of us want to see you hang in Lucy’s place, and she’d skin me alive if I allowed it.”

Lilah shook her head, tears flowing down her face. “That Miz Lucy has the kindest heart I ever come across and that’s the God’s honest truth, but she the craziest woman I ever come across, too.”

Finn snorted. “No argument here.”

“So, what can we do?”

“We need to show Halford for who he really is. There’s no denying you killed him, but you killed an evil man to save two innocent lives. There’s no crime in that. We just need to prove it. And I need your help.”

“I’ll do anything I can.”

Finn nodded. “Good. Now, I’ve been Halford’s right-hand man for long enough that I know where to find certain incriminating documents and possibly some stores of contraband that the authorities won’t be able to ignore. As long as I can get to them and he hasn’t moved them.”

“And what do you need me to do?”

“A lot of the evidence I need is at Philip’s house and I can’t get near it at the moment. Even though Halford is dead, his servants still see me as an extension of him. They won’t speak to me. I need you to get me inside, get the servants to talk to me, convince them to give statements. The more evidence we have against him, the better.”

Lilah nodded. “I can do that. But I gotta own up to what I done, too. I can’t let no innocent woman, especially someone like Miz Lucy, suffer any more for what I done.”

Finn hesitated.

“Mr. Finn, you know it’s the only way to make sure she don’t hang.”

Finally, he nodded. Lilah was a good woman and she’d saved his life, and Lucy’s. For that, he’d owe her a lifetime. But Lucy could not hang. And Lilah was right. It was the only way to be sure she wouldn’t.

“Lucy will be furious, at both of us, though me especially, I think. But, we won’t abandon you. Lucy’s lawyer will defend you. I promise you, you won’t hang.”

Lilah shook her head. “You can’t promise me that. It don’t matter though. I can’t let Miz Lucy hang.”

Finn took Lilah’s hand. “I can promise it. If they do convict you, I’ll break into the prison myself and get you out. You will not hang. But Lucy will if we don’t do something.”

Lilah stood. “Then we’d better hurry.”

Finn released a long breath. “We had indeed.”

…

Lucy thought often of that restful night of sleep over the next several days. It was the last peace she had. The last opportunity she’d had to see Finn. Her trial had begun. The case was so notorious the city wanted it over and done with as soon as possible. Those who’d supported Philip called out for justice to be served. Those who knew Lucy called out for her acquittal.

Unfortunately, Lucy had former slaves and poor white laborers on her side, while Philip had some of the most influential people in North Carolina, and beyond, on his. No one would listen to those who spoke of Lucy’s kindness and generosity. The papers painted her as a loose woman of questionable morals who’d tried to trap the virtuous Philip and when that hadn’t worked, she’d killed him in a fit of jealousy.

Her injuries at the time she was taken were chalked up to a fight with another lover, a mysterious savage who’d been shot and killed by Philip when he’d found the man and his ladylove in flagrante delicto. No one seemed to connect Finn, who’d continued to hide his tattoos, to the tattooed mystery man, nor did they find it strange that Philip’s right-hand man was Lucy’s staunchest supporter. Or if they did, they ignored it in the interest of a juicier tale. No one seemed interested in the truth. Least of all the jury of her so-called peers.

Mr. Fitzhugh had few defense witnesses he could call, nearly all of them serving only as character witnesses who testified to Lucy’s kindness, generosity, and general sweet disposition. Unfortunately, all but two of the witnesses were the lower-class whites and former slaves whose testimonies the jury didn’t even pretend to listen to. No matter what laws had been passed after the Civil War, laws Mr. Fitzhugh insisted the court follow, folks still weren’t keen on seeing blacks in the courtroom. Though Lucy’s friends were testifying for her and not necessarily against Mr. Halford, it was obvious their presence was unwanted and having them there at all showed how desperate Mr. Fitzhugh was to find someone to speak well of Lucy.

Lucy and Mr. Fitzhugh had gone back and forth on whether or not she should take the stand in her own defense. Mr. Fitzhugh didn’t want to give the prosecution any more ammunition than they already had, should Lucy answer a question in an unflattering way. But Lucy was hopeful if they could just hear her side of the story from her own lips, that she’d be able to sway enough of them.

Mr. Fitzhugh leaned over to whisper in Lucy’s ear. “There is one more witness I can call. I know you will object, but—”

Lucy was already shaking her head. “No. You will not call Finn.”

“He has evidence to submit that will prove what kind of man Halford is. It might help your case. It’s the only card we’ve got left.”

“No,” Lucy insisted. “He can’t present that evidence without incriminating himself. It won’t do me any good to be acquitted just to see the man I love hang for crimes he was compelled to commit. Leave Finn out of this.”

“Miss Richardson…”

“I said no. If you attempt to call Finn to the stand, I will fire you on the spot and defend myself.”

Mr. Fitzhugh gave her a withering look but nodded in agreement.

“Call me to the stand.”

He sighed and stood. “Your honor, I call Miss Lucy Richardson to the stand.”

Lucy glanced back to see Finn, his face red with fury. He half stood and Lucy shook her head, pleading with him to understand, trying to put all the love she felt for him in her eyes.

She walked slowly to her seat, her head held high, though her insides were quivering like Brynne’s Christmas pudding. She placed her hand on the Bible held before her and proclaimed in a loud clear voice that she would say nothing but the truth, so help her God.

And then the questions began.

Mr. Fitzhugh led her through the events of the day, and she told her story minus a few of the more scandalous details that she hoped wouldn’t need to be revealed. The prosecutor, Mr. Button, apparently had other ideas.

“Miz Richardson, isn’t it true that when you came to our fair city, you registered at the Chatford Hotel as Miz Lucy Taggart?”

Lucy hesitated, but she had to answer. “Well, yes, but—”

“And isn’t it true that you knowingly lied to Mr. Philip Halford about who you were and what your purpose in coming to Charlotte was?”

“No, I—”

“So you informed Mr. Halford as to your true identity?”

“No, but…”

“What was your purpose in coming to Charlotte?”

“I came looking for a friend.”

“I see. And what would that friend’s name be?”

Lucy’s stomach flipped. She didn’t want to drag Finn into this.

“Miz Richardson?”

“Finnegan Taggart.”

“Is this the same Finnegan Taggart who was employed by the deceased and who you identified as your cousin?”

“Well, no. Mr. Taggart was employed by Mr. Halford, but I never told him Mr. Taggart was my cousin. Someone else did.”

“But you didn’t correct the misunderstanding, did you?”

“No.”

“And since you continued to use the name in the community, it is reasonable to conclude that Mr. Halford remained under the impression that you were in fact Mr. Taggart’s cousin until the day of his death.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Mr. Fitzhugh said. “My client has no way of knowing what Mr. Halford did or did not think.”

“Sustained,” the judge said. But he didn’t look happy about it.

Mr. Button nodded and pursed his lips. “Miz Richardson, did you ever refer to Mr. Taggart as your cousin in Mr. Halford’s hearing?”

Lucy’s stomach dropped lower. “Yes.”

“Did Mr. Halford ever refer to Mr. Taggart as your cousin in your hearing?”

“Yes.”

“So you presented yourself to Mr. Halford as a cousin of his trusted employee. To what purpose?”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Mr. Fitzhugh broke in again. “None of this is relevant to the case.”

“The relevance will be made known, Your Honor, if you’ll allow me a little leeway,” Button said.

The judge nodded. “Overruled.”

Mr. Fitzhugh sat back down, his jaw clenched tight. Lucy kept her back straight, hoping an outward appearance of calm would hide the chaos of emotions bubbling beneath the surface.

“Answer the question please.”

“I didn’t have any purpose really for saying Mr. Taggart was my cousin. It was just easier to not correct the assumption.”

“So, because it was easier than telling the truth, you allowed Mr. Halford to believe, throughout the course of his courtship of you, that you were the cousin of Mr. Taggart.”

“I…we didn’t really have a courtship.”

“Relevance, Your Honor!” Mr. Fitzhugh shouted from his table.

Mr. Button held up his hand, his chest puffing up to twice its size. He turned a predatory gaze on Lucy, who had to pinch her thigh to keep from flinching.

“The relevance is that Mr. Halford entered into a courtship with a woman he believed to be the close kinswoman of a trusted friend and employee, a woman who has just admitted that she knowingly lied to Mr. Halford about her identity so that she could seduce him for her own as yet undiscovered, nefarious purposes. Believing her lies as he did, when he found them, in Miz Richardson’s bedchamber, entwined together as only a man and wife should be, the shock of it all sent poor Mr. Halford into such a state that he reacted as any man in love would. And when this deceitful, disgraceful woman thought her lover was being threatened, she attacked Mr. Halford, striking him over the head with such force that she bashed his brains in. Isn’t that true, Miz Richardson?”

There was a collective gasp from the audience and Lucy’s gaze darted around frantically, trying to find someone, anyone, who might still be looking at her with sympathy.

“No…no…”

Only…it was true. It had happened exactly as Mr. Button had said. Without adding the facts about Philip’s true nature, his ties to the smuggling ring, the KKK, his forced indenture of Finn, Philip did seem like an unwitting victim. And there was no way to prove he was anything else. Or that Lucy was anything other than a lying, deceitful murderess.

“Your honor!” Finn stood, leaning over the partition that separated the audience from the court participants.

“Order!” the judge said.

“Your honor, I have evidence to present that will prove that Mr. Halford was not the upstanding citizen he presented himself as.”

The courtroom was in an uproar. Mr. Button shouted that Finn had no right to speak, Mr. Fitzhugh yelled at Mr. Button, the audience members were beside themselves with the drama, and Lucy’s sisters were shouting themselves hoarse that Finn should be heard.

“Enough! Order! Order!” the judge yelled, banging his gavel with such vehemence Lucy thought it would go straight through the desk.

“Bailiff! Remove that man from my court, at once!”

Lucy covered her mouth to keep from crying out. Finn kept shouting, listing all Philip’s crimes as he was dragged from the courtroom. No one paid any attention to him. And no one cared about anything else Lucy or her lawyer had to say.

Mr. Button rested. Mr. Fitzhugh had no choice but to rest as well.

It took the jury only twenty-three minutes to find her guilty.

Chapter Nineteen

Lucy had to wait for her formal sentencing. Alone, in her cell. They wouldn’t let her see anyone but her lawyer, and he had precious little hope to share with her. They both knew she’d hang.

Lucy knew she should be terrified, but all she felt was a sad sort of calm. It was over. No more anticipation, no more false hope, no more wondering and praying. Just resignation.

As long as she didn’t think about Finn.

The thought of leaving him behind shredded the last remaining thread of soul she had left. She was sad to be leaving her sisters as well. Regretted that she wouldn’t get to see her nieces and nephews grow up.

But Finn…he was what made her want to curl up in a ball of misery and howl at the fates that had led her to this moment. She wasn’t proud of the thoughts that ran through her head, but in her weakest moments she cursed Lilah and herself and even God for giving Finn back to her only to rip her away from him again. Only this time it would be permanent. What sort of cruel deity would toy with them like this? Let them spend one glorious day in each other’s arms only to lose each other forever?

But thoughts like those brought her to the brink of despair, and she couldn’t afford to fall over that ledge. She had an execution to get through. And she would go to it with her head held high. She was innocent, and she wouldn’t let her enemies make her cower.

And so she prayed. She spent hours on her knees, praying for forgiveness, for strength, for courage. She didn’t sleep much. She didn’t want to waste the last moments of her life oblivious to the world, though it was tempting to slip into her dreams. In her dreams, she was with Finn again, married, watching their children play, growing old together. They were wonderful, beautiful dreams. But waking from them was a cruel torture that she dreaded more with each night.

On the third day, Lucy heard her prison door open and looked up to see Finn walking in. She sprang at him, launching herself into his arms before she’d even realized she’d moved.

Finn gathered her close and held her, wiping away the tears she hadn’t realized were running down her cheeks.

“How did you get them to let you in?”

“A big fat bribe,” Finn said with a smile that quickly melted away. “I’ve been trying to get in since the trial. But they wouldn’t let me come until now.”

“I’m glad you’re here.” Lucy wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his neck.

“Lucy, I’m sorry, so sorry for all those years I wasted. I should have come back. I should never have left at all. When I think—”

“Shhh,” Lucy said, stroking her hands through his hair. She kissed him, long and hard, and when she pulled away, it was to find his tears mingling with hers.

She pulled him close again, pressed her cheek to his so she could whisper in his ear. “This…this is what I’ll be thinking of. How your arms feel wrapped so tightly around me. What your hands feel like on my skin. The sound of your heart beating with mine. This. This moment. This is what will give me the strength I need.”

“Lucy.” Her name was a choked whisper on his lips. Finn brushed her hair from her face, his thumbs stroking her cheeks. He leaned down and kissed her, his lips drinking her in with a desperation that consumed them both.

“I love you,” he murmured, kissing her again and again. “I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life. I’ve wasted so much time when I should have been telling you every day how much you mean to me.”

“Hush, my love. I’ve always known. Even when you refused to admit it.”

“I guess you aren’t the only one who can be stubborn.”

Lucy’s laugh mingled with a sob. “Heaven forbid.”

Finn crushed her to him. “I’m not going to let them do this. Your sisters and I are coming up with a plan. We’ll get you out of this.”

Fresh fear spiked through Lucy and she grabbed Finn’s face, forced him to look at her. “No, Finn.”

He opened his mouth to argue, but Lucy cut him off. “No. The only way I can bear this is if I know the rest of you will go on living, if I can picture you happy, having a long, full life. I want you to leave here, before it happens. Make my sisters go. I don’t want any of you to see…to see…”

Lucy stopped, unable to force the words from her mouth.

“Lucy…”

She shook her head, wanting to finish what she had to say. “Mr. Fitzhugh helped me draw up a will. I’m leaving you my share of the mine and the ranch in California. If you don’t want to stay there, let my sisters buy you out. Use your share of the mine profits and find a place somewhere you can be happy.”

“I can’t be happy without you!”

“You will. In time.”

Finn stepped away from her, breathing as though he’d just run ten miles. He shook his head and grabbed her arms, hauling her back to him. “No.” He tucked her head under his chin, held her so tightly she could barely breathe. But she wouldn’t have moved for anything in the world.

“No,” he repeated again. He kissed her forehead. “No.” Kissed her eyes, her cheeks. “No.”

Finally, he kissed her lips once more. “There is no happiness for me without you. Ever.”

His lips covered hers, his mouth ravishing her, branding her as his.

The cell door opened once more and someone cleared his throat. Finn ignored it. But Lucy gently pulled away.

Mr. Fitzhugh waited with an officer to escort her to the courtroom.

Lucy gazed back at Finn, gave him a sad smile and stroked his cheek. “They can’t take anything from me,” she said quietly. “You are my life.”

She pressed one last kiss to his lips. “I love you,” she whispered.

She walked away, leaving him standing alone in the middle of the cell.

Lucy sat beside Mr. Fitzhugh as the jury filed in. Stood as the judge entered. Sat when told. Heard nothing but vague mutterings as the judge spoke. Her world had narrowed to the man she’d left in the jail cell. The man who was sitting beside her sisters in the observation balcony.

Nothing else mattered to her. Nothing else penetrated the haze surrounding her.

Mr. Fitzhugh touched her elbow, helping her to stand when the jury foreman stood to read her sentence.

She didn’t look at him. She turned so she could meet Finn’s gaze. Replayed the last moments they’d had together over and over.

“We the jury…”

I love you.

“Sentence the accused, Miss Lucy Richardson…”

I’ve loved you since the moment you walked into my life.

“To hang by the neck until dead.”

You are my life.

“And may God have mercy on your soul.”

Lucy closed her eyes, letting her tears fall, shutting out everything, everyone.

“No!”

Lucy’s eyes flew open and she looked around the courtroom. She knew that voice. The judge banged his gavel, trying to silence the sudden uproar.

“She didn’t do it! She’s innocent. You can’t hang her.”

“Lilah?” Lucy said, finally locating the woman in the back of the courtroom.

Lilah had rushed into the aisle, but a bailiff had stopped her. She tried to push him off, but he held tight.

“Bring her here,” the judge ordered.

Lucy looked up at Finn who was now nearly hanging over the balcony. His startled gaze met hers. But what made Lucy’s heart pound was the look on his face. There was hope in his eyes again. Her sisters beside him were pale and clinging to one another for support, but they too had lost the look of despair they’d both worn for the last several weeks.

Mr. Fitzhugh patted her on the shoulder and Lucy slumped back into her chair, her hand over her mouth.

The bailiff brought Lilah before the judge.

“What’s your name?” he ordered.

“Lilah, sir.”

“What was your mas— What’s your surname?”

“Lilah Halford, sir.”

There was a collective gasp in the courtroom. Even the judge’s brows rose a bit.

“And why did you feel the need to burst into my courtroom? Miss Richardson has already been tried and convicted of Mr. Halford’s murder.”

“But she didn’t do it! I did.”

Lucy’s hands trembled and she gripped them together in her lap. There were so many emotions rushing through her she wasn’t sure which to focus on. Hope for herself, fear for Lilah, anxiety for Finn who was still hanging precariously close to the edge of the balcony and looked as though he were ready to jump over to have his say so at any moment.

The judge spoke again. “Then why are you just coming forward now? This seems to me nothing more than a delay tactic, a scheme to try and save her from the noose where she rightfully belongs. I’ll not have such hysterics in my courtroom. Bailiff!”

The officer grasped Lilah again and made to haul her off, but Lilah pulled from his grasp.

“I can prove I done it!”

She swung the burlap bag she’d been clutching in her hand and slammed it onto the judge’s desk.

“What is this? What do you think you’re doing?”

“It’s a fry pan, sir. It’s what I kilt Mr. Halford with.”

Another gasp broke out and the judge banged his gavel again. Once some semblance of order had returned, the judge sat for a moment, clearly at a loss as how to proceed. Finally, he nodded and the bailiff came forward, pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, and gingerly opened the bag. He extracted the heavy iron pan, still crusted with Philip’s blood, and dropped it back on the table.

Mr. Button stood up. “Your Honor, I must object. This woman worked for Miss Richardson. She’d probably say anything to keep her from hanging. She could have picked up the frying pan and scurried it away at some point, to be used if the tides turned against them.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the audience and the judge banged his gavel again.

“I’m of a mind to agree with you, Mr. Button, but as the woman just plunked a bloody pan down on my desk I’m at least curious enough to hear her out.”

Lucy released a breath she hadn’t noticed she’d been holding.

Lilah was led to the witness chair and Lucy could see her trembling. She leaned over to Mr. Fitzhugh.

“Help her, please. I’ll retain you for your services. She needs counsel.”

Mr. Fitzhugh nodded and stood. “Your Honor, I’ve just been retained as counsel for Miss Halford. May I have a quick word with her?”

The judge frowned but nodded. “A very quick word. This is all irregular enough. I’d like to get this circus over with sooner rather than later.”

Mr. Fitzhugh nodded and went to Lilah. After a few moments of hurried whispers, he came back to their table. “Miss Halford would like to formally confess to the murder of Mr. Philip Halford.”

“And what proof do you have?” Mr. Button insisted.

“Aside from that bloody pan,” Lilah said, skewering the attorney with a glare, “I can tell you details that nobody that weren’t there would know.”

“Such as?” Mr. Button asked.

Lucy leaned over the Mr. Fitzhugh. “You can’t let her confess. Then she’ll be hanged.”

Mr. Fitzhugh whispered back. “She’s insisting. Nothing I said would dissuade her.”

Lucy sat back and glanced up at Finn. He looked worried but gave her an encouraging smile.

Lilah went through the details of the moments leading up to the murder. She described the scene perfectly. Described where Philip was standing, what had happened, what he’d said. How she’d come in and heard Philip threatening Lucy and Finn. When she heard the gunshot she grabbed the frying pan and snuck up behind him.

“I’d thought I’d only scare him, knock him cold maybe. I never intended to hurt him so bad. But if I hadn’t done it, he’d have kilt Mr. Taggart for sure, and maybe done worse to Miz Lucy. His men had already hurt her bad enough, as anyone could see who saw her that day. I did what I had to do to save Miz Lucy and Mr. Taggart.”

The judge called for the lead officer who’d been there that day to step forward. “Does Miss Halford’s description of the events measure up to what you saw that day?”

The pasty-faced officer looked like he was sucking a lemon as he answered, but he nodded his head. “Yes, she described it accurately.”

“They could have collaborated on a story, made sure their tales would match up,” Mr. Button insisted.

The officer shook his head. “There were witnesses on the scene almost immediately. When we arrived, Miss Richardson was still on the floor trying to stop Mr. Taggart’s bleeding. There wouldn’t have been time to discuss a story, and Miss Richardson has been in custody since then.”

The judge sat back, looking back and forth between Lucy and Lilah. Then finally, he sat forward and said, “I’m inclined to agree. Mr. Button?”

Mr. Button, his face mottled red, stood and glared at Lucy. But he said, “In light of this new evidence, the prosecution has no objection to all charges being dropped against Miss Richardson.”

“Agreed,” the judge said and banged his gavel. “Miss Lucy Richardson, you are hereby acquitted of the murder of Mr. Philip Halford.”

Lucy covered her hands with her mouth, unable to keep back the gasp of joy that leaped inside her. Chaos broke out in the courtroom. The judge banged his gavel until it broke. Then he chucked the pieces over his shoulder, got up from his bench and left.

Lucy’s joy was short-lived. In the ensuing chaos, no one else noticed as the bailiff grasped Lilah’s arm and led her from the courtroom. Before she was taken through the doors, she stopped and met Lucy’s gaze. Lucy looked at her friend, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. Lilah gave her a sad smile and let the bailiff lead her away.

Chapter Twenty

Lucy stretched, carefully extricating her arm from beneath Finn. He stirred but didn’t waken and Lucy curled on her side and watched him sleep. With the lines of his face softened by sleep, he looked years younger. Almost like the young man she’d first met so many years ago. She reached out a gentle finger and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead, overwhelmed with happiness at the thought that she’d get to wake up to his beloved face every day for the rest of her life.

After Lucy had been released, Finn had taken her straight to the first judge he could track down and demanded that they be married immediately. Lucy had no objection. And though her sisters had been a bit disappointed that they didn’t get to throw her a huge church wedding, everyone had been so euphoric over the outcome of Lilah’s revelation, no one had voiced any real complaints.

Lucy frowned. Lilah was the one concern that marred her happiness. Mr. Fitzhugh was very optimistic, more so than he’d been for Lucy, which, all things considered, was something indeed.

“What has put such a frown on your face?” Finn asked, his sleepy voice breaking into her thoughts. “I know it couldn’t be anything I’ve done…or didn’t do,” he said with a wicked smile.

Lucy’s stomach flipped at the reminder of how they’d spent their hours the night before. Just the memory made her toes tingle.

Finn drew a lazy finger across her brow, smoothing out the crease, and continued trailing it down her face until he reached her lips.

Lucy kissed his fingertip and then nuzzled her face in his hand.

“What’s wrong, love?” he asked.

“I’m just worried about Lilah.”

Finn pulled Lucy down for a kiss and then tucked her against him. “I’m actually very hopeful. Mr. Fitzhugh has been beside himself at the evidence we were able to give him. Coming from Lilah, they can be presented without implicating me, which fulfills your requirement that I keep out of it,” he said, pulling her closer. “Things are looking very good for her indeed.”

“I hope so,” Lucy said. “You never told me what sort of evidence you turned over.”

“You didn’t want to hear about it at the time,” Finn gently reminded her.

“Well my plate was a bit full at the moment.”

Finn laughed. “Very true. Well, once I found Lilah, I was able to get back onto Halford’s property. More importantly, with Lilah’s help, I was able to get the servants to trust me enough to cooperate with me. After Halford’s death, they’d begun cleaning out the house, putting everything in storage, which made finding the evidence I needed very difficult. But with Lilah to smooth the way, we were able to find what we needed.

“We went back to the shacks on Halford’s property.”

“The shacks?” Lucy shivered. “But what about…those men, what happened to…?”

“Lilah and I buried them.”

Lucy’s eyes widened and Finn continued. “They won’t be found, and I doubt anyone misses them. If any of the servants saw what we did, they won’t betray us.”

Lucy let that sink in for a moment and then nodded. “What did you find when you went back?”

“With the help of Halford’s staff, who were only too happy to assist now that Halford was no longer there to beat terror into them, we recovered the secret shipments he’d been ferrying in. Cases of opium had been stockpiled, and the crates of contraband. I was also able to retrieve the papers and ledgers and it all proved how corrupt Halford was.”

“Well, glad to discover you kept busy while I was locked up,” Lucy said with an attempt at levity. In truth, she was overwhelmed with what her husband and her friend had gone through in order to set her free.

“Lilah did society a favor by getting rid of Halford, and I think there are very few people left who don’t agree. Add to the fact that Halford was the only one armed in the whole altercation and had already shot me and was threatening to harm you, Mr. Fitzhugh says that Lilah’s act is being hailed by many as heroic. She might be given a cursory sentence since she had, in fact, killed the man, but the main consensus seems to be that the verdict will be light.”

“I hope so, but I won’t rest easy until Lilah is free.”

“I know, my love. And we’ll do everything we can to ensure she is.”

Lucy buried her head against Finn’s chest and breathed deeply.

With a sudden growl, Finn rolled, pulling Lucy along with him. She yelped in surprise, giggling as Finn rolled her beneath him.

“There’s only one sure way I know to keep your mind off your troubles,” he said. He ground his hips against her and Lucy gasped, arching into him. All thoughts of anything but the magnificent man above her evaporated on a wave of love and desire, and Finn gamely kept her distracted until they fell back into a satisfyingly exhausted sleep.

Epilogue

Lucy stepped down from the coach and took a deep breath, filling her lungs with the clean, Californian air. She was home. She had never seen anything so beautiful. The house nestled in its clearing. The stables and paddocks spread out behind the house, flowing into the cow pastures. The ranch’s garden was bursting with vegetables, and Lucy’s mouth was already watering at the thought of sinking her teeth into one of the crisp apples from the orchard. She felt like she’d died and gone to heaven.

A squeal from the direction of the house stole her attention and she braced herself as Carmen, the Richardson’s housekeeper and surrogate mother, came barreling out of the house. She crashed into Lucy and swept her into a smothering hug.

“Ah, mija, you’re home at last,” Carmen said, backing away just enough to squish Lucy’s cheeks between her hands.

Lucy laughed and returned Carmen’s hug. “It’s long overdue, I know.”

Miguel, Carmen’s husband, hung back, waiting for his wife to finish her hellos before he came to envelope Lucy in his arms. “It’s good to have you home. We’ll have to make sure we keep you here this time, eh?”

“I think we’ll be sticking around awhile,” Lucy said, glancing back at the coach where Finn was unloading their luggage.

“So,” Carmen said, her hands on her hips as she sized up Finn, “you are the one who stole our Lucy’s heart.”

“And brought me home,” Lucy reminded her.

“For that,” Carmen said, opening her arms wide to give him a welcoming hug, “we’ll be forever grateful. Welcome home.”

Finn nodded, his eyes looking suspiciously bright to Lucy. But he went back to the luggage and the moment was lost in a flurry of activity as Cilla and Leo and their son clambered down and came forward for their hugs and kisses.

It wasn’t until later that night, when Finn and Lucy were settled in the bunkhouse, where they’d stay until their own home could be built on the property, that Lucy had a chance to gauge how Finn was really feeling.

“Are you happy we decided to move out here?” she asked.

Finn smiled and pulled her into his arms. “Of course, I am. Why do you ask?”

Lucy shrugged. “I don’t know. You’ve just been quiet tonight.”

Finn burrowed them down farther in the pillows. “It’s a lot to take in. I’m used to being on my own. Not…”

“Not part of such a loud, obnoxious family?”

Finn laughed. “Your words, my dear.”

Lucy smiled but pressed on, wanting to make sure of his feelings. “Will you be happy here?”

Finn tilted her face to his, pressed a tender kiss to her lips. “I will be happy anywhere you are, love. And this place…in this place . . .I can be myself. It’s been a very long time since I’ve had a place I could call home.”

Lucy drew her finger along the tattoos on his chin; let her thumb trail along the T-shaped marks on his cheeks. She’d wiped the makeup from his handsome face the moment they’d entered the bunkhouse. And she didn’t want to ever see them covered again. They were part of who he was—her wonderful, miraculous husband.

She leaned up to kiss him, her heart so full of love and happiness she felt she’d burst from it. Finn deepened the kiss, pressing her back against the feather mattress beneath them.

“I only need you,” he murmured. “You are my home.”

She gazed deep into his eyes and smiled. “And you are mine, my love.”

…

Lucy stood on the platform, her eyes glued to the horizon. Brynne, Richard, and their children were due to arrive at any moment. It had been a year since Lucy had said good-bye to them and now, finally, they were coming to California for good.

After Lucy’s ordeal, the ranch had become the haven they so desperately needed. Finn could be himself there, though it did take a little while for the townspeople to get used to him. But he was accepted there as he never would have been in Boston and certainly not in North Carolina. And most of his time was spent on the ranch. He had a good hand with horses and under his care, the horse stock on the ranch were flourishing.

Lucy had restarted the town school and had been very happy to discover how many adults in town were interested in attending the night classes she offered for them.

Cilla and Leo had always been at home on the ranch and had welcomed Lucy and Finn with open arms. Lucy and Finn had their own house on the property now, a beautiful home perfect for their new family. They were close enough to the main house that they could keep each other in view, but far enough away that they had their privacy.

And now Brynne and Richard were coming. The town was in need of a good doctor and Richard had insisted that he would be happy anywhere there were patients who needed him. And he knew Brynne would be happiest if she could be near her sisters.

The train blew its whistle in the distance and Lucy grasped her skirts, leaning over the edge of the platform to try and see around the bend. The excitement coursing through her had her nearly bouncing on her toes. Finally, they’d all be together again!

Finn laughingly came up behind her and wrapped his arms about her waist. “You’d best be careful, love, or you might fall right off the platform.”

“Oh hush,” Lucy said, playfully batting at his arm.

The train pulled around the bend and Lucy nearly jumped out of Finn’s arms. “They’re here!”

Finn laughed and let her go. Lucy waited eagerly as the train pulled in, its wheels squealing as they ground to a halt. The moment it stopped one of the passenger car doors burst open and Brynne tumbled out and into Lucy’s arms. Richard followed with their children and shook Finn’s hand. Then they stood and watched with loving smiles as their wives greeted one another.

They chattered over the top of one another until Richard held up a hand, pointing back to the train. A huge smile broke out on Brynne’s face and she grabbed Lucy, spun her around, and clapped her hands over her eyes.

“What are you doing?” Lucy said, trying to pull Brynne’s hands from her eyes.

“We have a surprise for you,” Brynne said. “Are you ready?”

Lucy laughed. “Yes!”

“All right. Open your eyes.”

Brynne removed her hands and Lucy blinked a few times and looked in the direction Brynne had pointed her.

Lucy stared for a moment, struck dumb with shock. And then she clapped her hands over her mouth to muffle her shriek of joy. She ran forward and wrapped Lilah in a bear hug that nearly crushed the smaller woman. The two women sobbed as they clung together.

Finally, Lucy pulled away and clasped Lilah’s face in her hands. “You’re here. I’m speechless. I’m absolutely thrilled to see you, but what are you doing here?”’

Lilah looked down a little shyly. “Miz Oliver said there might be a place for me at the school here, or on the ranch. After…after everything that happened back there, well…there weren’t nothin’ there to stay for.”

“Of course there is a place for you! I could use the help, surely. And there is always plenty of work to be done on the ranch as well. But what about…?”

Lilah smiled and turned around. Ruby, Sam, and their boys stood on the platform. Lucy went to them, hugging them each in turn and then went back to Lilah.

“I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me,” Lucy said, emotion choking her words. “I am so happy you are here.”

“So am I, Miz Lucy. So am I.”

The rest of the day was one of chaotic joy, getting everyone settled in, Brynne’s family in the main house with Cilla, Lilah’s family in the bunkhouse until a house could be built for them on the property.

After supper, when everyone had gone off to their various houses to turn in for the day, Lucy wandered out onto her porch and leaned against the railing. Finn joined her, standing beside her with an arm draped over her shoulders. Lucy leaned against him and sighed.

“What are you thinking?” he asked.

Lucy rubbed her face on his chest, staring out into the setting sun. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy in all my days. It’s a little overwhelming.” She looked up at her husband with a smile. “But I hope it never ends.”

Finn leaned down and kissed her. “We have each other. And the Richardson sisters are all together again. How could life be any more perfect?”

Lucy glanced up at him with a sly smile. “I can think of one thing…”

Finn laughed and scooped her up into his arms. “You read my mind, love.”

He kissed her and carried her into their home, closing the door behind him.

Acknowledgments

To Erin Molta, Heidi Stryker, and Gwen Hayes—I am seriously the luckiest writer in the world to have you ladies. I can’t tell you enough how much I appreciate all you do. Thank you a million times over.

To Babs Hightower—you are a writer’s dream. Thank you so much for all the work you do to get my novels out in the world and in front of the people who will love them.

A huge thank-you to my sweet family for all their love and support. I promise someday the house will be clean and all your meals will be hot and on time. And in the meantime, I’ll keep the cereal coming and…well, there’s not much I can do about the house, but know that I love you more than anything in the world and am more grateful than I can say that you support me in this crazy business.

And to my readers, you guys are the reason I do what I do. Thank you so much for reading my stories.

About the Author

Romance and nonfiction author Michelle McLean is a jeans-and-T-shirt kind of girl who secretly wishes she could run around town in a big, poofy dress from the 1600s and hopes to someday be able to get away with crazy stuff like that by chalking it up to her eccentric writer personality. She’s addicted to chocolate and Goldfish crackers and occasionally writes by hand just so she can hear the scratchy sound of her favorite gel pen on a sheet of paper. Her husband also swears she has conversations with herself, but she and the voices in her head, heartily disagree.

Michelle is a contributor to The Naked Hero, Operation Awesome, and Scene 13 blogs. You can find Michelle at her website, her blog, on Twitter, Facebook, Tumblr, and Pinterest.

In addition to her husband and two awesome kids, she also has two amazing stepkids and one beyond-adorable step-grandson. She currently resides in Pennsylvania with her husband and two kidlets, an insanely hyper dog, and two very spoiled cats.

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