Page 49 of The Swindler’s Daughter

“Where does he live?”

“Just off High Street, by the parsonage. And we’ve heard rumors. The carpenter has delivered two large trunks to the magistrate over the past few months. Custom orders, with locks.” The look in his eyes was so hopeful. “Miri?” The way he said my name was a question and a hope all in one.

I wrapped myself in bravery and looked him in the eye. “I want to help.”

A bright wide grin lit up his face. “Are you sure?”

I nodded. “I can’t sit back and hope it gets better. I have to do something about it.”

He let out a gusty sigh and gave me a giant bear hug. “Thank you.” Then he released me. “Are you certain?” He made a study of my face. “I don’t want you to regret this.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. I know what’s right for me.”

He squeezed my hands then leaned in to place a quick kiss to my cheek, grinning when he pulled back. But when he saw me blinking up at him in surprise, his grin slackened and his eyes went dark. His entire face transformed into something sweet and tender and intense all at once. “You really are amazing,” he said, then gave my hands one more squeeze and stepped back.

I shook off my shock. It was just a kiss on the cheek. Friends could kiss each other’s cheeks, right? I cleared my throat. “I’m not amazing.” Arguing was easier than basking in the glow of whatever that had been.

He shrugged. “I respectfully disagree,” he said before he turned and towed me back toward the group. “Come. You can help us plan.”

I smiled as I hurried to keep up with him, my heart racing with nerves and excitement. As we approached the others, I was washed with a different feeling. One of family and purpose. It would seem I’d just joined a band of outlaws. And it felt good.

When we drew closer, Johnny grinned. “Are you one of us now?” he called out to me.

I nodded. “Sorry it took me so long.”

Johnny gave a shrug. “It’s not something to enter into lightly.”

That was very true and the thought drew my eyes to Gretchen and Ansel, but before I could voice any concerns, Rowan spoke close to my ear. “Don’t worry. Gretchen and Ansel never do anything illegal. They help, but only in ways that won’t risk them getting into trouble.”

I nodded, relieved. I would not have been able to countenance using children for illegal activities, no matter how much they may have wanted to help, no matter how much we believed we were right. At twelve, they probably didn’t think of themselves as children, but they weren’t old enough to realize the consequences of what we were embarking upon. Not when it was this big.

“So,” I asked, “what is the plan? Are we going to break into the magistrate’s house?” I teased.

They each looked at each other, communicating without words, looking uncomfortable.

Realization hit me. “Oh. You are going to break in.”

Rowan gave an apologetic shrug. “It’s the only way that we can know for sure if and where he’s keeping the goods and money.”

“And how will you keep from getting caught?” I asked.

“We were just discussing that,” he said, drawing me fully into the circle and crouching on the ground again. “We can’t decide if it would be better to go in during the day, perhaps even during market hours when we know he won’t be there. Or if we should go in the middle of the night and count on the dark to conceal us.” He drew several intersecting lines in the dirt with his arrow.

“It’s a shame we can’t guarantee that he’d be gone after dark,” Johnny lamented.

“Or can we?” This question came from Tyson. We all turned to look at him. He shrugged. “He’s the law. If someone breaks the law, he has to investigate, right?”

“So, you want to break the law somewhere else to hide the fact that we’re going to break the law by breaking into his house?” Rowan clarified.

“It’s just an idea,” Tyson said.

“And it’s not completely crazy,” Johnny pointed out. “We don’t even have to truly break the law. There are people on our side. They could claim theft or assault without us even having to be in the vicinity.”

“But will he investigate in the middle of the night?” I asked. “Or would he wait til morning? Or would he send his men instead?”

Rowan heaved a sigh. “Too many variables. I think we have to go in during the day when we know for certain that he’ll be gone.”

“And his servants?” I asked.