Blood Blade Sisters Series (11 page)

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.”