Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous)

by Michelle McLean

  “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 Brynn
e.

  “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.