Here Comes the Rainne Again (Invertary 6)

There were grumbles, but they stopped discussing Julia’s lack of a backbone, which was a step forward.

“Okay,” he said. “Megan and Claire will go for help. Take the baseball bat. It’s better than nothing.” He handed it to Megan.

The twins nodded their agreement—with matching looks of determination.

“Everybody else will hunker down in the tower room while Ryan scopes out the situation. Got it?”

“No,” Margaret said. “We’re not going to hunker down. I don’t even know what that means. If it means hide like a bunch of children, then no, we won’t be doing that. There are people out there threatening the women of Invertary. People trying to ruin my daughter’s wedding and assault Caroline’s home. We’re going to do what Scottish people do best. We’re going to defend our castle.”

The women cheered, completely ignoring Joe’s protest. As far as they were concerned, he was invisible and the leader of Knit Or Die was running the show.

“To the tower,” Margaret shouted. “Bring any weapons you can find.”

The older women charged from the room.

“At least they’re defending the castle from inside the tower room,” said Caroline. “Maybe once they’re in there you can convince them to hunker?”

Yeah, and now Joe’s head was really throbbing. He asked himself, yet again, why he’d decided to stay in Scotland when his best friend, Grunt, fell for Claire. He could work anywhere. With anyone. He didn’t need to work with Lake’s security company. He didn’t need to deal with the crazy women of Invertary.

He turned to see Jena helping the very pregnant Abby up the stairs. What were the chances stress would bring on early labour? Shit, he hoped not.

“I wish we had hot oil,” one of those crazy grey-haired women shouted over her shoulder as she scurried from the room. “We could tip it on their heads like in the old days.”

“I have olive oil,” Caroline called as she hurried after them.

Jean stopped to talk to Caroline. “How much?”

“A couple of bottles.”

Jean sighed. “Not enough.” She brightened. “Bring the alcohol.”

“We can’t drink and fight,” Heather scolded.

“Not to drink. To make Molotov cocktails.”

“You’re a genius. Women, the alcohol.” They changed direction and hurried to the cabinet in the corner of the dining room that housed the bar.

“Wait,” Rayan shouted after them. “You don’t use alcohol in a Molotov cocktail.”

It was pointless. They weren’t listening.

“You’re wasting your breath,” Joe told him.

“Okay, we’re ready,” Megan said as she came back into the kitchen.

The twins were decked out in matching snow gear, all of it red. So much for their argument against sending Magenta. They weren’t any better at blending with the snow.

“You stand out too much,” Joe said.

“It’s the best we can do,” Megan said. “Don’t worry. We’ll keep to the shadows. No one will be expecting us to go for help. We’re just a bunch of helpless women.” She grinned, and it was kind of scary.

“Good luck keeping them in line,” Claire told Joe while she pointed at her mother. “I’ll make sure Grunt doesn’t kill you.”

Joe grabbed the hood of Claire’s jacket as she headed for the door. The twins were acting like this was an adventure. It wasn’t. And he was an idiot for letting them go. But they needed all the help they could get, and he was out of options.

“Stay low to the ground,” he said. “Go out the door at the side of the house. Most people don’t even know it’s there, and it’s shielded by those hedges we kept telling Josh to cut down. They’ll help with cover. If anything comes at you, swing the bat. Otherwise, run like the wind.”

“Got it.” Megan saluted, and then the twins were gone.