Mr. Moorish gave a nod. “Both of you inside. Our mission is to capture, gentlemen.”
“I’m coming too,” Raithe set her down even as Ophelia, Cordelia, and Bianca approached the group.
Mr. Moorish gave him a quick glance. “Protect the women if it comes to that and get your arm bandaged. You’re bleeding, son. You need to check the wound.”
Raithe looked down at the arm. “It’s just a scratch.”
But Charlie caught her breath. “Scratch? You’ve been shot!”
Raithe looked at the arm again. It was only a graze. The blood running down his arm might make holding a pistol tricky, though. “We’re wasting time.” Still, he wasn’t staying behind, not when the rest of the men were in danger.
Mr. Moorish gave him a glancing look before he nodded. Then he looked to his daughters. “Girls, you know where to hide until we return.”
Ophelia grabbed Charlie’s arm as she began pulling her toward the house. “Be careful,” she said as they moved away.
Careful was not exactly the word Raithe wanted to use. They’d shot at and nearly hit Charlie. The bullet had been a mere inch from her face.
Something deep inside him had shifted. He understood with stark reality that he’d nearly lost her.
What if he’d never had the chance to hold her again? Tell her that she’d thawed the ice about his heart? What if he couldn’t marry her and spend days worshipping every inch of her?
He looked over his shoulder to see her gaze upon him even as Ophelia pulled her in the opposite direction. His chest tightened. He was in love with her.
“Anyone have a pistol I can use?”
Dashlane pulled a pistol from his belt. “Here. I’ve got two. You take this one.”
Mr. Moorish made his way down the path with a sprightliness that surprised Raithe. Older and a bit heavy, the man could move.
“We need to make sure at least one of them remains alive. I want to know who they’re working for. This is the third theft in a month. It stops tonight.”
The man silently nodded just as Raithe caught sight of lanterns bobbing toward the caves once again. “We should capture them before they make it to the caves.”
“Agreed,” Rathmore replied. “Craven, Dashlane, Crestwood, take a sharp right so as to cut off their path. The three of us will flank them from behind.”
Everyone nodded as their group split in two.
Raithe could see they pushed another crate, working doubly hard. He nearly smiled. It would be much easier to catch them by surprise with them bent over, working as they were. He stepped into the lead, the sand allowing him to move stealthily behind them. He picked the largest one and grabbed him by the neck, swinging the man to the ground and holding his pistol to his head as he drove his knee into the man’s back.
He heard the other two men cock their guns, likely aiming right at him, but Mr. Moorish stepped up next to him, Rathmore on his other side. “You’ve been surrounded. Drop your weapons.”
In answer, they raised their guns clearly set to fire at Mr. Moorish when a shot rang out from behind. One of the men grunted but the other fired back into the darkness.
In response, Rathmore charged, driving the man into the ground.
The third raised his hands, dropping his pistol.
Craven came out of the dark, holding his gun to the third thief’s head. “Down on your knees.”
“Don’t shoot,” the other man cried. “I’ve been hit.”
Crestwood and Dashlane appeared behind Craven, Dashlane holding the right side of his head.
Mr. Moorish pulled out the rope and knife that he’d attached to his belt. “Tie their hands behind their backs. These men and I are going to have a little chat.”
Chapter Fifteen
Charlie paced about the small, windowless room they currently occupied. If she weren’t so distracted, she would have been impressed.