Blood Blade Sisters Series (21 page)

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.