Danica wanted to believe she was imagining things, that her mind was manufacturing undercurrents here that simply didn’t exist. Unfortunately, her instincts were telling her differently.
At that moment, the maid reappeared to remove the soup tureen, then came back a minute later to set down a platter heaped with roast chicken, already carved for easy serving.
“Thank you, Bridget,” Emma said, and the girl bobbed her head before heading back into the kitchen. She returned with a bowl of string beans and another of mashed potatoes, setting them down next to the platter of chicken.
After seeing the glances the brothers had exchanged, Danica thought she’d completely lost her appetite, but she knew she had to see this evening through to the end and then make her escape as best she could. She accepted a portion of chicken breast and potatoes and vegetables, then smiled her thanks to Bridget, who gave her a hesitant smile in return before going on to dish up everyone else’s meal.
Apparently realizing that no one had actually commented on Danica’s confession, Lida said, “I think that was very brave of you, Miss Prewitt, to come to a place you knew nothing of. But didn’t anyone from your family attempt to fetch you back?”
“Not that I know of,” Danica replied. “Although I suppose I made it rather difficult for them, as I did not say precisely where I was going.”
“And your clan has no tracker?” Samuel asked.
Again there seemed to be an unwelcome undercurrent to his question, and Danica forced herself not to bristle. “Not as such, no. We have several people who are quite good at finding lost objects, and my cousin Thomas has something of a reputation as a dowser, but no one who can locate missing people.”
This reply elicited some nodding, but no one contradicted her. How could they, really? The Wilcoxes might have passed through St. Louis on their way here to Arizona — her knowledge of which railways went where was foggy at best — but even if they had, they wouldn’t have lingered. Witch clans were never all that happy about members of other clans passing through their territory, but as long as they minded their own business and didn’t stay longer than strictly necessary, no one tended to make too much of a fuss about it.
Well, except when it came to the Wilcoxes. Lord knows the other two Arizona clans had been a lot stricter about the whole thing until very recently, even if Maya de la Paz had allowed Connor Wilcox to get his master’s degree down in the Phoenix area. However, Danica doubted the Landons back in 1877 Missouri could have known much about the family of witches that passed through their territory before continuing west, if that was even the route her ancestors had taken.
Anyway, the Wilcoxes couldn’t have known anything about the talents of the Landon clan, and that was why Danica didn’t feel too bad about telling lies left and right. Anything to keep them from guessing the truth.
And thank God none of the Wilcoxes are like that cousin of Alex’s, the private detective who can tell if someone’s lying or not. Then I’d really be up a creek.
“Well,” Emma said briskly. “It’s unfortunate that you found yourself in such a situation, but lucky for the Flagstaff school. I know my nieces are quite taken with you.”
“Oh,” Danica replied, feeling blood rush to her cheeks, and wondering if the others would notice in the flickering gaslight, “I’m sure I make my mistakes. But it’s always good when children look forward to going to school.”
With some surprise, she realized that they mostly did. Oh, they had their squirmy moments, but she couldn’t really blame them for that. At least it was considered normal to let them out for a short recess several times a day so they could run around the schoolyard and chase each other and scream. Danica feared that some of these screaming games might involve playing at Indians, but since no one had actually been scalped, she’d decided it was probably better to not even try lecturing a bunch of seven- and eight-year-olds on political correctness.
“No mistakes that we’ve heard of,” Samuel said with a false heartiness that Danica didn’t believe one bit. “And since my Addie is known for telling tales out of school, believe me — we would have heard.”
That was probably true. Addie — short for Adeline — Wilcox was something of a tattler. Right then, Danica found herself very grateful that Jeremiah’s youngest brother Edmund was her great-great-etc.-grandfather, and not the slimy Samuel. There was something about him that made the back of her neck crawl, although his other children besides Addie didn’t seem to exhibit any of his less-than-attractive qualities.
Somehow Danica managed to essay a smile in response, and, seeming to notice that she appeared uncomfortable, Emma steered the conversation onto safer topics, such as the news that a man named Conroy had bought the parcel at the corner of Aspen and Humphreys Street and planned to build a hotel there. This led into a lively discussion on how much the brothers thought the price of lumber might rise, what with everyone building, building, building, and before Danica knew it, Bridget was bringing them all apple pie, and the meal was winding toward its conclusion.
What was supposed to happen next, Danica didn’t know for sure. In most of the movies she’d seen, this would be the time when the “menfolk” retired to some other room to drink brandy and smoke cigars, but this wasn’t exactly London, or even New York or Boston.
As Bridget came in to clear away the empty dessert plates, Jeremiah said quietly to Danica, “Let me walk you home.”
She wanted to demur. But there was no way he’d let her go home in the dark by herself. Flagstaff had calmed down a good bit from the crazy days before the rail came through, but she’d been startled more than once by hearing shots fired in the night, mostly coming from the saloons over on Humphreys Street. As far as she knew, no one had been killed outright, and the gunshots were merely the result of scuffles between men who’d had too much whiskey. Even so, Danica figured the chances of her being allowed to leave alone were roughly the same as her announcing to everyone present that she was their future great-great-etc.-grandniece.
So she rose from the table and thanked Emma for the wonderful meal, and told everyone how it had been lovely to meet them. With the notable exception of Samuel, it actually had. She certainly couldn’t see anything in the Wilcox clan of the devils the New England witches seemed to think they were.
She went out to the foyer, where her cloak waited for her on the coat tree in the hallway. Of course Jeremiah already wore his long frock coat, but he retrieved a heavy overcoat as well and drew that on as Danica was fastening her cloak’s clasp at her throat. She couldn’t really blame him for dressing warmly; the temperature outside was probably already in the low forties.
Jeremiah opened the front door for her, and she stepped out onto the porch, then waited while he closed the door behind him. This time, he did offer her his arm, and because she knew she couldn’t refuse it, she looped her own arm around his and allowed him to guide her down the porch steps.
Although she still couldn’t help feeling awkward, Danica had to admit that it was probably a good thing he was guiding her along. The night had remained stubbornly black as pitch, with no moon. And now it seemed that some clouds must have moved in, because the stars weren’t visible, either. The night felt as if it was crowding close, pushing in on the two of them as they made their way along the dark street.
“It was very kind of your sister Emma to invite me for dinner,” Danica ventured then, since the quiet between the two of them practically begged to be filled. “Please thank her again for me.”
“I will. I hope you didn’t find all of us together too overwhelming.”
“Not at all.” She chuckled, adding, “If all the children had been present as well, then yes, that might have been a bit overpowering.”
“Oh, no, we would never subject you to that, not when you must put up with them every day at school.”
His tone was warm…a little too warm. Danica risked a quick glance up at Jeremiah, but it seemed his own gaze was fixed on the street ahead of them, eyes
intent on any obstacles or ruts that might cause her to stumble. Besides, it was far too dark to really see anything of his expression.
“I wouldn’t call it ‘putting up,’” she said lightly. “But I will agree that it was a nice respite.” She hesitated then, wondering if she could ask the question that had come to her during dinner. After all, they were entirely alone. Off in the distance, she could hear faint ghostly laughter and the rumble of men’s voices coming from the saloons on Humphreys Street. Here, though, they had no one to overhear what they were saying. “Is it difficult, to have” — she broke off then, because she’d almost said “civilians,” and as far as she could tell, that wasn’t a term used by the witches of the nineteenth century to describe their non-magical counterparts — “to have people who aren’t witches working in your household?”
“Not as difficult as you might think.” This time he did look down at her, expression speculative. “Didn’t you have servants back in St. Louis? Forgive me, but your dress and your manners seem to indicate that yours must be a fairly prosperous clan.”
Oops. She’d really put her foot in it there. At the same time, she couldn’t help but be perversely pleased that he’d praised her manners. She’d been unable to let go of the worry that she might do or say something so out of line that someone would surely call her on it. But if Jeremiah Wilcox hadn’t noticed anything….
“Um — we did, but it did get to be so tiring trying to keep our natures a secret that sometimes I wondered if it might not be better to take on those tasks ourselves.”
He laughed, but quietly, not much more than a chuckle. “I suppose I can see how you might think that. But we do not have so many — a maid and a nanny and a cook for each household, and no one else, and only the nannies live in. And of course the nannies will not be with us forever, but only until the youngest of the children reach ten or eleven.”
Some of them would be there all too soon. In the next year or so, the oldest Wilcox children would start to come into their own powers, and Danica imagined that would be quite the party, having to conceal those powers from the young women who cooked and swept and kept an eye on the nursery. But maybe their duties were more focused on the younger children, and so wouldn’t be around the older kids, the ones just beginning to test their talents.
“At any rate,” Jeremiah continued, “we’re all used to concealing our abilities from the rest of the world, aren’t we? It’s best the children learn that discipline early on, so that it’s second nature to them when they’re out of the classroom.”
His remark made a good deal of sense. Danica had never really thought about it that way. And it would have been difficult for the Wilcox wives to manage all those children and keep their households running smoothly. It wasn’t as if they had the modern world’s labor-saving devices like vacuum cleaners and washing machines. Even with all those conveniences, Danica’s mother had a cleaning service come in every week to do the heavy lifting, and Danica had never really thought about whether or not Janine or Marcy, their two regular house cleaners, ever noticed anything out of the ordinary. That wasn’t the same as having someone live with you day in and day out, however.
“I can see that, although I never had a nanny. It was just my sister and me.”
“Does she know where you’ve gone?”
No, Danica thought then. She has absolutely no idea that her sister is off someplace a hundred and thirty years ago….
“I wanted to tell her, but I decided not to,” she said. “I hope — that is, I do plan to write to her when I can, so she knows that I’m well. But I thought it safer to wait a bit.”
By that point they had reached the white picket fence that surrounded Mrs. Wilson’s property. Jeremiah paused there, looking down at Danica as he quietly slipped his arm from hers.
“Do you really have anything to fear from this cousin of yours? From the way you spoke of him earlier, I gathered the impression that he would not come after you.”
For some reason, she found herself flushing. However, the light from the oil lamp near the front door was probably dim enough that Jeremiah wouldn’t be able to tell that she had blushed.
“Not my cousin Alfred,” she said hastily. “But I fear my father would still attempt to fetch me back, if he knew where I was, and that wouldn’t do. Even if Alfred would not want such an independent-minded wife, there are others in the clan who might not be quite so choosy.”
“I see.” Another hesitation, one so long that she wondered if Jeremiah intended to say anything else at all. Then he went on, “Perhaps it is not my place to say this, Miss Prewitt, but if you should ever find yourself in need of additional protection, you have only to say the word.”
He took her gloved hand then, raising it so swiftly to his lips that she didn’t even have time to react. Then he turned and hurried back the way he came, as if he didn’t want to wait and see what her reaction to that unexpected gesture might be.
All Danica could do was stare after him, heart racing. She’d hoped he would ignore the odd attraction he felt for her, would tell himself that he didn’t dare risk having another young woman fall prey to Nizhoni’s curse.
Unfortunately, that didn’t seem to be the case. And Danica had absolutely no idea what to do about it.
14
On Friday morning, Danica had two things to be grateful for. First, that she had school to occupy her, so she couldn’t spend too much time brooding about the kiss Jeremiah had bestowed on the back of her hand and what the hell she was supposed to do about it; and second, that Robert would be coming back today. He hadn’t been very specific about when, but she supposed that made sense. It was sort of hard to file a flight plan when you were out riding the range.
Still, there had been the way he’d left her the note in her desk drawer. She wasn’t quite sure how he’d managed that particular feat, except that door locks didn’t generally mean much to witches and warlocks. But maybe he planned to contact her again that way, and so she might as well leave him a note, just in case.
While the children were out shrieking around the schoolyard during the lunchtime recess, Danica took a piece of paper and her fountain pen, and quickly scratched out a note.
Tomorrow I will tell Mrs. Wilson that I plan to take a walk in the aspen groves up on Thorpe Hill. Meet me there at one o’clock if you’re able. Eliza.
She decided it was better to leave his name off the note. Robert would know it was meant for him if he found it, and if anyone else should come across it, better that no one would be able to tell for whom it had actually been intended.
The rest of the afternoon, she found herself jumpy, gaze jerking toward the window every time she heard horses pass by on the street. That led her to make a colossal mistake in the long division problem she’d been demonstrating on the board, and she had to hastily erase it and start over while her students shared a laugh at her expense.
Stop acting like a complete idiot, she scolded herself. Even if Robert does happen to come riding by, he certainly won’t stop and interrupt you while you’re teaching. You need to be patient.
The problem was, after that unexpected and unwelcome display from Jeremiah the night before, it wasn’t all that easy to quell her anxieties. Not that she planned to tell Robert anything about Jeremiah’s advance, small as it had been. She sort of doubted he would take it very well, and the last thing she wanted was to provoke him into the kind of impetuous action they might all end up regretting.
No, right then she’d settle for merely having him hold her so she could breathe him in after missing him for most of this week. Funny how she could crave his presence so badly when she’d only spent a few hours around him. None of that seemed to matter, though. She only knew that she wanted him, and soon.
Somehow she managed to survive the rest of the day, then wished all the children a good weekend. As he passed, Jacob Wilcox looked up at her with dark eyes far too wise for such a young face, and Danica had to keep herself from glancing away. Of course h
is father wouldn’t have said anything to him about what had happened after he walked the schoolteacher home the night before, but still, it was unnerving, as if Jacob somehow had the ability to see deep into her soul.
That was ridiculous, though; Jacob was far too young to have started developing any of his witch talents, even if he did tend to be precocious in other ways. All the same, Danica couldn’t help experiencing a feeling of relief after the boy went on through the doorway and joined the rest of his cousins for the walk home from school.
She picked up the broom and dutifully swept the classroom, then lowered all the blinds and made sure the wood-burning stove had been well tamped down. The weather was growing increasingly chilly, and she’d started the stove going earlier that week.
Mrs. Marshall walked her part of the way home, her boys running ahead. “How was your week?”
“Just fine,” Danica replied. She really didn’t feel like talking, but she knew she had to at least be polite. “I think Oliver Wilcox has finally mastered his five times tables. But then, I suppose I’ll have to see how much he remembers come Monday morning.”
The other woman smiled and shook her head, although her expression grew sober soon enough. “I heard you had dinner at Emma Garnett’s house last night.”
Funny how everyone spoke of Emma, not Aaron. Danica couldn’t exactly say that the one Wilcox sister’s husband was a nonentity — he seemed like a nice enough man — but as usual, the Wilcoxes took first place in most people’s conversation. “Yes,” Danica said, her tone casual. “Didn’t you dine with them when you first arrived?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Marshall replied, “and several times after that. They’ve always been very gracious about it, invited my boys to come as well. But I don’t think it’s quite the same situation.”
witches of cleopatra hill 06 - spellbound Page 20