by Ivy McAdams
Some of the others wandered away while a few stuck around to nab the bacon that had been fried up before the meeting. Ace followed Clara over to the fire as she prepared a bowl of bacon and crackers.
“That didn’t go as bad as I thought it would.” His voice was low, tickling at the hair over her ear.
She held the bowl up to him. “Really? You thought they’d be madder?”
He pursed his lips as he took the bowl, then nodded. “Some of them. They’re not used to contending with women. And they’re certainly not used to taking orders from them.”
One of her shoulders hopped in a sheepish shrug. “I’d just be there to help, right? In case I’m needed?”
Ace hooked her under the chin with his forefinger, drawing her face closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. “You’ll be in charge. Their leader. They’ll need you. You’re more than qualified to do that.”
A tremble slipped through her bones. “I wouldn’t say I’m exactly qualified.”
"I would." His husky tone brought goose bumps to her arms. "I need someone out there I can trust."
She smiled, eating up the deep sincerity in his eyes.
After a moment of silence, she felt the surrounding gazes on her. Ace’s eyes moved to the edge of the fire pit, and he let his hand fall away. Clara glanced over at their audience. Clay and Sadie stared. Bridget’s hands were clenched in her lap, a knowing and playful smile on her face.
Clara’s cheeks burned as she turned away, letting her hair fall over her face. Ace moved toward the edge of the circle but turned back to point at her.
“I need to discuss weapons with you later. After dinner. Come find me.”
Her heart thumped, and she nodded.
Once he was gone, Bridget fell into a fit of high-pitched giggles. The redhead leapt to her feet and ran over, scooping Clara up and squeezing her against her tall form.
“Oh, my heavens,” Bridget gasped, still chuckling under her breath. “That is so much worse than you made it out to be.”
“Worse?” Clara stammered, chancing another glance at Sadie as her feet hit the ground again.
Her other friend still sat, an odd frown on her tilted face. Next to her, one of Clay’s brows was arched high, a confused skew in his lips.
“Yes, worse,” Bridget said. “You made it sound like some small infatuation. That is definitely not what just went on here.”
Clara licked her lips, looking between the others. “It’s not?”
“What the hell is going on here anyway?” Clay asked, still looking far beyond confused.
Sadie shoved him in the arm. “You’re so nosy.”
He turned his frown on her, and she grinned.
“Would you go get me some of my tea?” she asked quietly, batting her eyelashes at him.
“What? That has nothing to do with―”
“Oh, please. You know I can’t eat this bacon.” She turned a little green even mentioning it. “I’ll fill you in on everything later.”
Clay looked around at the women again before getting up and walking away.
It was a relief to see him go, but Clara worried still about the excited look in Sadie’s eye. She wasn’t off the hook yet.
“So really. What was that?” The giddy pregnant woman gushed, waving Clara over.
The women huddled together on a couple of hay bales.
“Just...a thing,” Clara offered.
Sadie giggled and bumped her with a hip. “We need more than that.”
Clara took a deep breath, torn between a feeling of secrecy and excitement herself.
“Fine.”
* * *
“I’ve got it―ow!”
Clara popped her burnt fingertip into her mouth as she bumped Bridget out of her way. The redhead was crowding the dinner pot like a famine was brushing through. The woman had hardly left her alone since she’d confessed what was going on with Ace earlier. Clara loved Bridget and Sadie, but both women were so hung up on the magic of love, Clara could hardly hold a conversation with them.
True, they’d both fallen into beautiful relationships recently, but it was no reason to lump her and Ace into the same category.
She’d been married before. It hadn’t ended well. At all.
Lloyd had been fine in the beginning. He had a good upbringing and spoke out about his fine morals and ambitions in life. He’d fooled her by a long shot. Unfortunately, he’d fooled her father as well. They’d wed just months after their first meeting outside the Emerald Falls doctor’s office. She hadn’t been swept off her feet, but she didn’t believe in that nonsense. She’d needed a stable man to be her husband so she could move out of her cramped home, relieve her parents, and start her own life.
She’d done everything she thought she was supposed to, but he’d been a wolf in sheep’s clothing. As soon as he’d grown tired of his façade, he’d turned on her, moving her away from Emerald Falls and completely isolating her.
Then he’d started drinking and staying away from home for days at a time.
When he began taking all his frustrations out on her physically, her life had turned even further upside down. Any notion she’d ever had about love had shattered.
It was hard to believe men at all anymore. A jeweled knife might be beautiful and handy, but it was still well-equipped to stab you in the heart.
“Too distracted to be cooking, are we?” Bridget cooed.
Clara glared as she sucked on her injured finger.
She’d been listening to the redhead go on and on about how different life was once one fell in love. How it became more beautiful, more special just because the other person was around. The sky bluer, the air fresher. Clara was starting to wonder if she shouldn’t sit Bridget down with pen and paper and have her scroll out a poem or two. The girl’s words were waxing all over the place.
“I’m fine,” Clara said, dipping her hand into the pot again and snagging the handle of the ladle she’d dropped.
“It’s okay you know.”
Clara stopped and hung the utensil on the chain holding the pot. “What?”
Bridget leaned against the spit over the fire, her tall frame bent to look at Clara. “It’s okay to be afraid.”
Clara’s stomach cramped a little. “I’m not afraid.”
Bridget lifted an eyebrow a fraction. “Really? Then why do your eyes glaze over and you lock down when I talk about love?”
The metal ladle clanged against the pot as Clara took it up again, stirring the pork and potatoes. It smelled good, and she busied herself by giving it a good turn with the spoon.
“See?” Bridget said, eyes wide and stabbing.
Clara’s hand froze, and she clenched her teeth. How had she just fallen into that trap? She let out a hard breath. “So what? Maybe I shut you out when you talk about love. That doesn’t prove anything. I’m not afraid.”
Bridget lowered herself onto a nearby stump. “Proves you don’t want to talk about it, because you feel―”
“It means,” Clara said, dropping the ladle and turning on her friend, “that I don’t believe in all the true love garbage you feed me, and you know that. You know I think love is stupid. Why do you push it on me?”
Rather than getting angry, Bridget’s eyebrows creased, and she reached a sympathetic hand toward her. “Oh, Clara.”
“No!” Clara jerked her hand out of her reach. Why didn’t Bridget just get mad and leave it alone? She was so damn understanding and helpful. “You know what Lloyd put me through. How he fooled me. Why would I want to do that to myself again?”
Bridget stood, and her hand found Clara’s shoulder. Her voice was calm and soothing. “Not all men are like that.”
Flashes of Ace ran through her mind. The way he looked at her discreetly during the day, even while he was busy leading the family. The way he admired her intelligence and encouraged her to use it. How he cradled her face when he kissed her. The amazing way he’d awakened her body and took it to heights she never knew existed. She’d
been so alive the last few days.
But she couldn't give him more than that. Access to any more of her would leave her exposed. Just waiting for him to hurt her.
“There’s no way to know how men are,” she murmured, a low grate in her voice. “Not until it’s too late.”
The hand on her shoulder squeezed. “You’ll have to let go eventually.”
A stubborn heat rolled in Clara’s chest as she looked up into her friend’s blue eyes. “No, I don’t.”
Bridget’s lips moved in subtle disappointment. “You do know Ace’s goal for this money is to disband the group right? Let everyone go live their own lives? If we all break up, where will you go?”
A flicker of fear stuck hard in Clara’s chest. It was something she’d spent time thinking about, but like most other uncomfortable things she had no answer for, she’d pushed it away. “I’d like to take up law again. Finish becoming a lawyer, but I’d have to go far away to get out from under what I’ve done. I doubt people will want to hire a murderer as their lawyer.”
“You could just go talk to your family and get things worked out. I know you miss them.”
Clara scowled, even as her heart broke a little. “That’s not something I’m ready for.”
“Then don’t worry about them yet. But Ace is going to want to know where you’re going, what you’re doing.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe to it, my friend. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. What will you do when it’s time to part ways?”
“I’m not sure, but me falling in love with him isn’t going to change that.”
Bridget gave a short, breathy laugh as she squeezed Clara’s shoulder again. “Listen to yourself. I’m not telling you to run off and marry the man, but if you’re together, at least you won’t be alone when the time comes. It’s not like he has a family to run off to either.”
Clara’s lips pinched tightly together as she fished for her sinking ladle once more. “I’m not discussing a future with him,” she said through her teeth.
Bridget shook her head. “Then don’t. Don’t think about the future or worry about what will happen between the two of you. Just worry about now.”
Clara’s brow furrowed slightly as she looked up at the woman. “Now?”
“Yes, right now. You’re happy. I mean, you’re rather hissy right now.” Bridget grinned, and Clara’s frown deepened. It only made Bridget laugh out loud. “But other than when you’re talking to me, you have a smile on your face. You daydream. It’s cute. Keep it up.”
“You mean I look like you when you sit around hanging on Mason’s arm?”
Bridget’s teeth flashed, and her eyes twinkled. “Just like that.”
Clara groaned inwardly. “But I don’t even know what I have right now. It’s weird. Unexpected.”
“But you like it.”
“Of course I do.”
“Then keep going.”
Clara stared into the big blue eyes that glowed in excitement. A movement beyond them caught her attention, and with a short glance, she knew why.
Ace walked down the line of lean-tos from his tent. He moved toward the central fire, but his eyes were everywhere else. Looking down the other tents, landing on each of his people milling about.
His hat was low against the setting sun, a few stray locks of black hair escaping out the back. His face in profile was easy to get lost in, low brows over captivating eyes, a long straight nose, and a strong chin. The way his hard jaw curved above the cord in his muscled neck. The smooth skin of his throat she’d felt with her fingers and longed to touch with her lips.
She pulled in a long breath as she stared, watching his long legs carry his tall frame. She could remember most of it without the clothing barriers. A body not only enjoyable to look at but to touch.
When he was nearly upon the edge of the central circle, Ace’s eyes snapped to her. Clara’s heart skipped a beat.
His eyes were keen, unfaltering.
For a moment, she forgot how to breathe.
Without looking away, he stepped into the circle and took a seat on a log. A few others came up behind him to spread around the circle and sit, bringing their conversations with them. Clara couldn’t hear anything but a dull murmur. Nothing broke through the spell he’d put on her.
His eyes were dark in the shadow of his hat. Not just shaded, but hard lines and a narrowed edge that made him appear both angry and intoxicatingly handsome.
Bridget bumped her, and Clara blinked through her haze.
The redhead gathered a couple of bowls and ladled out some stew, then leaned in toward Clara with a sly smile.
“Enjoy your evening,” she whispered.
Clara’s eyes jumped back to Ace. He stood as others around him moved forward to get their food. Eyes only for her, he lifted his chin and hat an inch into the air, motioning behind him. Away from everyone. He wanted her to follow.
Her legs moved without request, stepping out of the circle and following him in a silence that sent excited chills through her body, all the way back to his tent.
Chapter 12
“Food smelled good,” Ace said as he leaned over the small table in the corner of his tent to turn the lantern down lower.
Clara hovered in the entryway. It was still odd to be invited into his tent. It wasn't a place she'd frequented many times, even after living there for nearly a year. She even left his clean laundry on the barrel outside the tent flap. She knew better than to mess with the boss man's things. The idea of walking into his space with him then made a sprinkle of sweat tickle her back.
“Must not have smelled too good,” she said as she took a single step inside. “You didn’t eat any.”
A dark chuckle answered her, followed by a tinkling of glassware. “I have too much on my mind for food.”
He turned in the low light and held a glass out to her. An inch of dark liquid swirled in the bottom. Whiskey. It was the only liquor Ace ever took from the crates.
“Too much for food?” she asked as she took the glass. “There must be a lot going on in there.”
He grunted a reply, then turned up the second glass and gulped. She watched in surprise as he downed the contents.
She took a small sip on hers.
He set his glass down and bent low to pull a gun out from under his bed. It was a long double-barreled shotgun. He set it on the dark fur spread over his cot.
She stared at it in silence. He’d mentioned before that they needed to discuss weapons, but she hadn’t known what he meant.
“All of our men here have handguns and rifles,” he said as he stood and looked down at the weapon. “They’ll be ready for what’s coming. But you.” He glanced up at her, and she froze, the rim of her glass to her lips. She was captivated by those eyes once more, and this time she was close enough to reach out and touch him. “I know you know how to shoot a gun.” A nervous tic stole her eyes away from his for a moment, but his words held no judgment, and her gaze jumped back. “But you don’t own a gun, nor do you ever shoot one from what I’ve observed.
She shook her head silently, finding it to be the most appropriate time for more liquor, and emptied her glass.
“I want you to take this one when we hit the town. It’s a good gun. It’s got some kick, but nothing you can’t handle.”
He handed the weapon over, and she stared at the heavy metal.
“Just remember to keep both eyes open,” he said.
She frowned, setting the gun on the bed. “Of course. I have to see to shoot.”
“A lot of people close an eye to aim. Don’t. Keep both your eyes open. You’ll have better depth perception.”
Her mind flitted back to the fruit he’d won just days before with his good marksmanship. Not to mention the conversations she’d heard around camp of him being a highly skilled shooter.
She wanted to see his skill in action one day.
But her concern lay elsewhere for the moment. She frowned as she looked bac
k up at him. “You think someone is going to come after us?”
“There’s no way to predict that, but it’s best to be safe.”
“None of this sounds safe, Ace. Robbing a bank during the day. Bringing the whole gang down there. People will see us before we even make it in there, and they’ll―”
Ace stepped up to her, and had he not grabbed her arm, she might have fallen back to put some distance between herself and his raw energy.
“Of course it’s not safe,” he said. “It’s a huge risk, for all of our safety, but there’s a bigger picture at work here.”
“A bigger picture for who?” She frowned at him, tensing against the fingers pressed deep into her arm. “You’re going to risk all these lives to get your hands on a big pile of cash? What the hell are you going to do with all that money anyway?”
He balked, eyes widening at her foul language. Then his gaze narrowed, and his hand tightened. “You know that money isn’t for me. It’s for all of us.”
Suddenly she needed to hear it from his lips. “How do I know that? That’s a lot of money, Ace. More than I’ve ever thought of. You just going to dole it all out?”
Her other arm fell into his vise too, and he squeezed, pulling her up and toward him. She stood on her toes and faced him with a hard, unrelenting gaze.
“Are you suggesting I’m going to take off with the money by myself?”
Her teeth clenched as the blood rushed in her ears. She didn’t know what she was suggesting. Stealing from the family didn’t seem like Ace. All she knew was that he was leading them into a do or die situation.
“You’ve just been living and breathing this heist since you brought home the news days ago. You really want that money.”
He rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh. “Of course I have. It’s my job. People depend on me. They want me to lead them into this mission, and it’s dangerous. You think I’m going to do that without the proper planning?”
“Well, no, but all your planning to get in isn’t going to save us. We might make it in safely, but it’s a bank. They’ll come after us. Chase us, even.”
