Then she shook her head and told herself that she needed to get a grip. Yes, it was all very tragic, but she couldn’t do anything to change the situation. At least Jacob had a loving extended family, an aunt who clearly was concerned about him and did her best to be there for him. It wasn’t the same as having a mother, but it was definitely better than nothing.
Anyway, she needed to focus. Because tomorrow she’d be sitting down with the whole clan, or at least a big chunk of it, and she needed to mentally prepare herself for that. One verbal slip, and this could all be over.
And what she’d do then, she had no idea.
13
The next day, Danica didn’t linger in her classroom after school. She gave the floors a desultory once-over with the broom, then gathered up her things and headed home so she could change for dinner. Not into the teal-blue silk gown — it was far too dressy for such an occasion, and would send the wrong message — but her wine-colored wool, the one she wore to church.
At least Mrs. Wilson hadn’t seemed too surprised by the Wilcoxes’ invitation. “Oh, yes, they had Mrs. Marshall and her boys over to dinner when she was first hired at the school, so it’s only fitting that they would extend the same courtesy to you,” she’d said. “I’ll just make up something small and light tomorrow, since it’ll only be Clara and me.” The landlady smiled slightly. “Well, unless she tries to invite that young man of hers over. He came to sit with her in the parlor this evening, you know. You just missed him, as he left a few minutes before you came home.”
“I wondered, when I saw them together at the dance — ”
“Oh, yes,” Mrs. Wilson said briskly. “Elias Hansen is a fine enough young man, and just got a promotion at the sawmill. Clara could do much worse. If they’re not married by Christmas, I shall be very much surprised.”
She’d bustled off then, claiming she needed to check on the potatoes. Danica reflected that Clara’s good fortune could be good fortune for her as well; if Clara was occupied with this Elias person, then she probably wouldn’t have much energy left over for snooping. She certainly hadn’t batted an eye that night at supper when Mrs. Wilson informed her that Danica would be going to the Wilcoxes’ for dinner the next evening. Or maybe Clara was still irritated with Danica, and so didn’t wish to reveal her own curiosity about that unusual event.
When Danica descended the stairs at a little before six o’clock, she did hear the low rumble of a masculine voice coming from the parlor. Elias again, apparently. So much for Mrs. Wilson’s strictures about no male visitors after five. Possibly she’d made an exception, considering that Clara didn’t even get off from work at the store until five thirty.
It really didn’t matter one way or another. Danica did catch a glimpse of the two lovebirds as she headed out the door, but she only smiled. Not that she thought they’d even noticed her; they weren’t kissing, but they were sitting pretty close to each other on the sofa.
Go for it, you crazy kids, she thought as she shut the front door. Then her smile abruptly faded. She could do with a kiss of her own right about now. Three days had gone by since Robert last kissed her, and she ached to see him again. Well, he’d be back tomorrow, and maybe they could do something about making up for lost time. Exactly what, she wasn’t sure. Would Mrs. Wilson buy the excuse of taking a walk in the autumn woods? Possibly. But that sounded like the best plan. Go for a walk, meet at a predetermined place, and melt into his embrace as the aspens shimmered like liquid gold around them.
The mental image sent a tremor through Danica. She still wasn’t quite used to her physical reaction to Robert. After Matías, she’d worried deep down that she’d never want a man to touch her again, that she’d shy away from even an attempt at intimacy, but she certainly was eager enough to be in Robert’s arms. Her mother had been right when she’d told Danica that all you needed was the right person. Those with witch-blood did have a tendency to get married young, since many of them could sense their compatibility with the person who was exactly right for them, even on the occasions when that person happened to be a civilian. Danica hadn’t felt it yet, but she also hadn’t been too worried about the situation; after all, she was only twenty-two. But this thing with Robert….
Now she knew exactly what that sort of connection felt like.
But she also knew she needed to push thoughts of him aside for the rest of the evening. None of the family lore had ever mentioned the original Wilcox brothers having any kind of mind-reading abilities, but better safe than sorry. Her personal life was her personal life, and it shouldn’t be any of their business who she was seeing after she was done with her duties at the school. However, Robert’s very business here meant he’d be in the Wilcoxes’ cross hairs if even a hint of it got out to them, and so it was better to leave him aside for now, even if doing so gave her a mental pang.
The night was dark, with no moon. Even so, enough of the houses had kerosene lamps on their front porches that she could see her way. Danica wondered when the streetlights had been installed. Probably not for another decade or so. This part of town wasn’t quite populated enough yet to justify the expense.
At least the Wilcox compound — for lack of a better word — was well lit. All five of the houses had lights shining from what seemed to be every window. And they were fine-looking buildings, too, newly constructed and neat, each two stories high. They were exactly the sorts of homes that people paid top dollar for these days, wanting to keep as much of the “old Flagstaff” alive as possible. However, her own family hadn’t lived on this street for decades and decades. Danica knew that large parts of Flagstaff had burned down and been reconstructed. It was possible that the Wilcox houses had been casualties as well, and they’d gone on to build even bigger and better homes in other parts of town as their fortunes continued to rise.
Number 10, Emma’s house, was the one in the middle. Had she chosen that spot, as the only woman in her generation, or was it her brothers’ subtle way of making sure she was protected? No, that was probably a silly idea. Aaron Garnett, Emma’s husband, looked fully capable of taking care of his wife and family.
And you’d have to be tough, just to marry someone with four brothers…especially when those brothers happened to be the Wilcox clan.
Repressing a smile, Danica let herself in the garden gate and then climbed the front steps. The front door had been painted dark red, and the reflection of the kerosene lamp mounted on the wall next to it seemed to dance in front of her eyes.
If she waited, she knew she’d only lose her nerve. So she reached up and tapped the brass knocker twice, but not too smartly. She didn’t want to sound as if she was too eager.
A young woman Danica had never seen before opened the door. Since she had a neat white cap on her head and an apron over her calico dress, Danica assumed she must be the housemaid or something.
“Yes, miss?” the maid asked, her Irish accent clear even in those two syllables.
“I’m Miss Prewitt. Mrs. Garnett is expecting me for dinner.”
“Oh, of course, miss. This way.”
She stepped aside so Danica could enter. This was definitely a step up from the cabin the Wilcoxes had first shared when they came to Flagstaff. The floor underfoot was gleaming oak, overlaid with Persian carpets, and the walls were covered in fancy striped wallpaper in green and gold. A low table with a Boston fern in a Chinese pot sat up against the wall facing the door.
As the maid led Danica farther into the house, she saw that the decor was much the same. Dark and ornate, but tasteful, not like the explosion of chintz in Mrs. Wilson’s beloved parlor.
Voice came down the hallway, both male and female, and a moment later Danica was ushered into the dining room, where the Wilcox family seemed to be assembled, except for Emma herself. Here was a long dining table, much like the one she’d imagined Jeremiah and his son sitting at, but this one had places set for ten.
The husbands and wives…and Jeremiah Wilcox and me.
That seemed a
little too neat, but she didn’t have time to think about the setup any longer, because the maid curtseyed and said, “Miss Prewitt,” then headed back out to the hallway.
Jeremiah came forward at once and greeted her, then commenced with the introductions. Danica had seen all of them at church and at the dance, but had only been formally introduced to Aaron and Emma. Now she met Samuel and his wife Grace, Edmund and Lida, and Nathan and Jennie. That seemed like quite enough to keep track of, but even so, Danica couldn’t help noting that none of the children seemed to be present.
“I don’t see any of my students here,” she said.
Grace and Lida exchanged a smile. Grace was the one Danica had noted before, the lone blonde in this family of dark, handsome people. She smiled now, saying, “Oh, Miss Prewitt, you see quite enough of them in the daytime, I should think. No, they are all at their respective homes with their nannies, so we can all converse like adults. Besides, there certainly wouldn’t have been room at the dining room table for all of them!”
No, there wouldn’t. It was a very long dining room table, but even so, Danica didn’t think it could accommodate much more than a dozen people.
The idea that the Wilcoxes had servants did surprise her a little, though. It was hard enough to keep civilians from finding out that witches were real without having them live with you day in and day out.
There didn’t seem to be a delicate way to ask how they managed it, so she decided to put her questions aside for now. “That’s true,” she replied instead. “That would have to be a very long dining room table!”
Several of the men chuckled, and Jeremiah said, “I believe we’re just about ready to sit down, Miss Prewitt. If you would allow me?”
He guided her to a spot directly to the right of the place setting at the head of the table. Seeing it, Danica felt her heart sink a bit. So she would have to sit next to him all through dinner? For some reason, she’d thought she would be buried safely amongst the brothers and sisters, but it seemed they were all now sitting next to their spouses, carefully alternating the men with the women, although the place to Jeremiah’s left remained empty.
Danica soon saw why. Almost as soon as everyone had sat down — the men politely pulling out the chairs for their wives, while Jeremiah did the same for her — Emma Garnett appeared, smoothing the overskirt of her dress.
“The first course is ready,” she announced.
Course? Danica thought. How many are there? The food she’d been served at Mrs. Wilson’s boarding house was surprisingly good, but fairly simple. Certainly her landlady didn’t bother with any nonsense about “courses.”
But it seemed the Wilcoxes took their reputation as one of the leading families in town seriously. As Aaron Garnett was holding out her chair so his wife could sit down, the little Irish maid who had let Danica into the house now entered the dining room, a large tureen of soup in her hands. She set it down in the center of the table, and then one by one, the assembled diners passed their bowls to Edmund, who was seated closest to it, so he could fill the bowls with what looked like some sort of creamy concoction.
All right, so it wasn’t exactly a Downton Abbey sort of setup where everyone had a footman standing behind them, ready to take care of their every whim, but the formality of the arrangements was still more than Danica had bargained for. At least she didn’t fumble too badly when passing her bowl, nor when having it returned to her.
To her surprise, everyone fell silent for a moment so Jeremiah could murmur a brief blessing.
“Dear Lord, thank you for your bounty, and for what we are about to receive. Amen.”
All the Wilcoxes murmured “amen” in unison, and Danica hastily did the same. So were they actually religious, or was the habit of trying to fit in so deeply ingrained that they would follow the customs in their own homes, even when no one else was looking?
That was another question she didn’t dare ask.
They all ate in silence for a moment or two. The soup was very good; some kind of potato recipe, although it couldn’t be vichyssoise, since it was hot. Then Samuel said, a glint in his black eyes, “And how are you enjoying Flagstaff so far, Miss Prewitt?”
“Very much,” Danica replied, not sure why he would be wearing that odd expression. “The scenery is very beautiful.”
“Quite different from St. Louis, I would imagine,” Edmund put in.
“Yes, quite different,” she agreed. “But I find that change can be broadening to the mind. Don’t you?”
“I think all of us Wilcoxes feel that way,” Jeremiah said. The grim expression he’d worn the day before was quite gone now. In contrast, a small smile played around the corners of his mouth. “Or else we would have stayed back in New England.”
“Oh, is that where you’re from?” Might as well play the innocent.
“Yes, Connecticut.”
“Then this must have been a very big change for you. Why the move out west, may I ask?”
She held her breath, wondering if she might have gone too far with that question. Still, she was curious to know how he would answer.
The clink of his spoon as he set it down in his soup bowl seemed unnaturally loud. He paused, then said, “It was made known to us that it might be better if we went in search of a change in scenery. And so we did.”
“Oh,” she said, not sure how to reply to that statement. What would the real Miss Prewitt have done? Probably not have been here in the first place, but that was a problem for another day.
“I fear my brother has made you uncomfortable,” Emma remarked, sending Jeremiah a sideways look from under her long lashes. “He is not always the most diplomatic of men. But truly, it became…unpleasant…for us to remain in Connecticut. At the time, the papers were carrying stories of the expeditions that had come out here to Arizona Territory, and we thought we should see it for ourselves, although I’ll confess that our original plan was to carry on and go all the way to California.”
“What made you stay?”
Emma’s dark eyes flicked upward, although Danica couldn’t quite tell what she might be looking at. The other woman smiled, then said, “When we arrived here, we didn’t think any other place could be more beautiful. So why bother to go any further?”
A warmth in her tone told Danica how much Emma truly did love this place. Who could argue with that? Danica had lived in Flagstaff her entire life, but even so, every time she was coming home — say, from visiting Caitlin in the southern part of the state — her heart would lift again when she caught sight of the San Francisco Peaks rising above the town, and saw the miles of pine forest that stretched away on every side.
Danica smiled back at her, as Samuel said, “Besides, the land is good. Ranching, lumber — we knew we could make our own fortune out here.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to say that much was obvious, judging by the fine houses they’d recently built, but she decided such a remark would probably be too personal, or at the very least considered crass. She might not have absorbed every nuance of Victorian society — far from it — but talking about money was never in good taste.
“Yes, Flagstaff has been very good to us,” Nathan added. He seemed to be the quietest of the brothers, and Danica thought probably the youngest, too. He didn’t appear to be that much older than she was, even if he did already have a wife and several children.
“And I hope our brood isn’t plaguing you too much,” Aaron Garnett said. “I know they can be a little overwhelming.”
“Oh, not at all,” Danica replied immediately. “They’re all very good children. Besides,” she added, “it’s not as if I have to teach all of them. Mrs. Marshall has her share as well.”
That comment elicited a chuckle from the group, as she’d hoped it would. Even Jeremiah smiled as he picked up his spoon and finished off the last bit of soup in his bowl.
“Still,” Samuel said, “I’m curious as to what brought you to Flagstaff, Miss Prewitt. Surely there were opportunities for you clos
er to home. After all, our kind rarely travels too far afield unless compelled to do so.”
“Samuel,” his wife said, sounding exasperated, “I am sure that is Miss Prewitt’s business, and none of ours.”
Danica had been thinking more or less the same thing. Clearly, Jeremiah had not passed along any of her confidences, which made her much more inclined to think kindly of him. At the same time, she didn’t see any real reason not to let the whole family know of her reason for being here.
Well, her manufactured reason, anyway. She couldn’t tell them the actual truth.
“No, that’s quite all right, Mrs. Wilcox. I’m sure there’s been a good deal of conjecture on the subject. My family wished me to make a marriage I didn’t at all want, and so when I saw the position here advertised in the papers, I applied. Truthfully, I did not think they would accept me, as I did not have any true experience, although I did get my teaching certificate back in Missouri. But the position was offered me, and I made my escape.”
She fell silent then, trying to gauge their response to her revelation. The women all looked more or less sympathetic, Emma especially so. Her husband Aaron only nodded, while Edmund and Nathan appeared vaguely embarrassed, as if they were wishing that their brother had not pressed the issue. As for Samuel, his eyebrows went up, and for the briefest instant his gaze flicked from her to Jeremiah, then away.
Danica really didn’t want to think what that was all about, although she was beginning to have her suspicions. She reached for her glass of wine, which she hadn’t touched up until that point. As she sipped the claret, she tried to get a quick read on the other people seated around the table. Aaron Garnett looked neutral enough, his wife troubled, but again, there it was — just that quick flicker from Jeremiah to Danica and back again from the other two brothers, Edmund and Nathan.
The exchange only confirmed her fears. Yes, this was a social call, a dinner that Emma had thought overdue, but to the other Wilcox brothers, it was more than that. They’d wanted Danica — Eliza, that is — to come here so they could take her measure for themselves. Nizhoni had died raving, and Jeremiah’s two wives after her hadn’t fared much better, but they weren’t ready to give up yet. They wanted their brother and primus to have a wife, and who better than a young unattached witch who had more or less been dropped into their laps?
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