Blood Blade Sisters Series (17 page)

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.