Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous)

by Michelle McLean

  “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 resolve
d 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.”