To her disappointment, he didn’t smile in return. “When the circumstances warrant it, yes.” He hesitated for a moment, fingers tightening on hers. Then he said, “We know what it’s like to be the objects of persecution. The Winfields — for that is the clan I’m associated with, as my father does not have witch-blood — have been in New England since the early seventeenth century. The Landons came later, and then to Maryland before finally moving on to Missouri, correct?”
Danica could only nod mutely. Her cousin Marie hadn’t told her anything of her borrowed clan’s history, only that they were the dominant witch family in Missouri. Of course Robert had no reason to deliberately attempt to mislead her, but Danica found herself praying that her silent agreement wouldn’t send up a red flag.
Interesting that his father was a civilian, though. She wondered if the practice of marrying civilians was as common here in the 1880s as it was in her own present-day clan. Somehow she doubted it. And if Robert’s mother was a Winfield, then that meant he had to be related to the Wilcoxes somehow, if only remotely. It seemed she couldn’t get away from being involved with a distant relative.
“Well, then, your people wouldn’t know what it was like to have ancestors of theirs burned at the stake,” he went on, tone grim. “We know the price of discovery. The stakes — if you’ll pardon the word — are simply too high.”
“You really don’t think anyone would burn witches at the stake in this day and age, do you?” Danica asked sharply, shocked into speech. All right, the need for secrecy had been hammered into her ever since she was a small child, but that was mainly so the witch clans wouldn’t have reporters and reality TV personalities crawling up their butts with cameras and recorders.
“No,” Robert said, although he had paused before answering, as if he had stop and think the matter over carefully first. “To be honest, I’m not sure what would happen. What I fear — what we all should fear — is how our lives would be changed forever if we were discovered. Perhaps not anything as immediately terrible as being put to death, but ostracized…kept separate…forever viewed with suspicion and fear. This is what we’re all trying to avoid, Eliza, and why I have to know precisely which powers the Wilcoxes do wield, and how much of a threat they might pose.”
When he described the situation that way, Danica found it difficult to argue with him. She could say that the Wilcoxes were far more circumspect than that, and that they knew what was at risk here just as well as anyone else. But clearly they didn’t, or they wouldn’t have created such a stir back in Connecticut. That had been some time ago, though, and maybe Jeremiah had learned some restraint during the intervening years. He hadn’t done anything since her arrival in town that would raise any eyebrows.
Well, except for possibly appearing a little too interested in Flagstaff’s new teacher.
She swallowed. “I understand that, Robert — I do. But….” Should she tell him of her suspicions about Samuel? Something about Jeremiah’s next-youngest brother just rubbed her the wrong way. That could have been a personal thing, though. Every once in a while she’d encounter someone she disliked from the beginning, and for whatever reason, Samuel Wilcox seemed to have gotten himself admitted to that small but select group. Nathan and Edmund seemed unobjectionable enough, although Danica had the distinct feeling they’d fall in line with pretty much anything Jeremiah asked them to do.
And Jeremiah…it was probably better not to analyze her feelings about Jeremiah too closely.
“But you’re worried,” Robert said softly as she fought her own inner battles. “I understand that. Truthfully, I’m somewhat worried myself. My talents help to warn me when another warlock intends to use his powers against me, but that can only go so far. And, as you said, it is four against one. Five, if you count Aaron Garnett, and I suppose we must, since he acts with his brothers-in-law in everything.”
“Then why on earth would your clan send you out here alone?” Danica asked, knowing desperation had begun to seep into her voice, even though she was doing her best to prevent it from doing so.
“Who else could they have sent? The Wilcoxes would have immediately sensed who and what any of my clan members are. As they did with you, Eliza, except that you are one woman on your own, and no one they could possibly see as a threat.”
No, she thought then, they see me as something very different. Although I have a feeling you wouldn’t much like how they’re seeing me at the moment.
But that was a problem for another day. She’d have to hope that the men staying at the Hotel San Francisco weren’t quite the gossips that the town’s women had proved to be. With any luck, Robert wouldn’t learn anything of Jeremiah’s interest in her until they were safely away from here.
Wherever that might be. Or whenever.
“I suppose you’re right,” she said at length. Gently, she let go of one of his hands so she could reach up to touch his cheek, feel the slight roughness of the dark stubble along his jaw against the palm of her hand. In that moment, she wanted him so badly she was sure he must be able to sense the desire that seemed to flame its way along every vein.
Perhaps he did, because he pulled her to him with the hand he still held and lowered his mouth to hers, lips meeting, tongues touching. The need in Danica’s body only intensified, almost cramping in its intensity.
The worst part was that she didn’t know how she’d even be able to satisfy that need. She couldn’t go to his hotel, and he certainly couldn’t come to the boarding house. Unlike a couple of her friends, she’d never been the type to get a thrill out of having sex outdoors, but right then she thought maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, if that was the only way she and Robert could get any kind of privacy. Of course, they’d have to do it soon, or it would be too cold even during the daytime for that sort of activity.
If he would even be amenable. Oh, he wanted her, that was easy enough to tell, but he was a man from a different era than hers, a gentleman. If they were intimate, he would think he had “ruined” her. Nothing could be further from the truth — especially since her implant would keep her from getting pregnant — but there was no way Danica could try to explain any of that without telling him who she was and where she’d come from.
All things considered, she should probably tell her raging hormones to be patient for a little while longer.
She didn’t know how long the kiss lasted. There were no clocks out here, only the sun moving imperceptibly overhead, and the sound of the wind rustling in the aspens’ yellow leaves. Finally, though, Robert lifted his mouth from hers, his breathing sounding ragged.
“You — ” He stopped then, blue eyes seeking hers and holding them, as if he wanted to drown within her gaze. “I’ve never met anyone like you, Eliza.”
Somehow Danica knew she needed to break the moment, or she’d be saying things she knew she shouldn’t. It hurt somewhere deep within to keep the truth from him, but the time to reveal those particular truths wasn’t now. Some instinct told her the moment wasn’t right for that.
“You mean there was no one else?” she asked. “Not ever?” She had a hard time believing that of someone as strong and passionate and handsome as he was.
He shook his head, expression grim. “I told you that my clan despaired of me. Courtship, marriage — I knew it was expected, but there was never a woman who came into my life who made my heart lift the way it does when I look at you. Now I know why. I had to wait for you, Eliza, wait for the match of my soul.”
Speaking of hearts, hers was melting right about then. She didn’t kiss him, but put her arms around him, felt him tighten his around her as well. Oh, how she wished she didn’t have that damn corset on. It felt like an impenetrable barrier composed of steel and cloth, and she wanted it gone.
All right, if she was going to be perfectly honest, she wanted all her clothes gone. And his.
That wasn’t going to happen, though, so she had to settle for the feel of his embrace, the deep, steady breaths that made his chest rise and
fall beneath her cheek, the strong, slow beating of his heart.
She had to make sure that heart kept on beating.
15
Saying goodbye to Robert hurt far more than Danica expected — hadn’t he just gotten back in town? — but after lingering in the aspen grove some time longer, holding one another, sharing more kisses, talking quietly about what they might do after he was done with his fact-finding mission, she knew she must get back to the boarding house. There was really only so much time a person could spend gathering autumn leaves.
Speaking of which….
She hastily picked up as many as she could from the clearing, Robert smiling and pitching in to help as he went a little farther afield and also collected some from the oaks and sycamores.
Those damn sycamores again.
Of course, in her haste to get up here, she’d neglected to bring along anything like a basket to actually hold the leaves.
“Your skirt?” Robert suggested.
That could work. Danica set down on the tree stump the little pile of leaves she’d collected, then took up the edges of her apron-style overskirt so it formed a little bowl. Then he took his own set of leaves and placed them carefully in her skirt, followed by the ones that waited on the ponderosa pine stump. A few threatened to flutter down over the edges of her overskirt, but otherwise she thought she should be able to get the collection back to the boarding house more or less intact.
Robert looked as if he was fighting back a smile. “Are you sure you’ll be able to climb down from here while holding your skirt like that?”
“I suppose I’ll have to. I don’t know what I was thinking, running out of the house like that without a proper basket. Actually,” she added with a grin, “I know exactly what I was thinking. I was thinking about you, Robert Rowe, so I suppose I can say that all this is your fault.”
Shaking his head, he bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “Of course it is. Well, do be careful, Eliza. Do you think we can meet like this again tomorrow?”
Her smile faded. “I doubt it. There’s church, and I’m not sure how many times I can use this particular excuse. I do hate the way we have to sneak around!”
“Not for much longer,” he promised. “And I will come to church tomorrow, just so I can see you, even if we can’t even speak.”
That was something. Maybe it would be torturing herself, but better to see him and not be able to talk than have to go another day without being around him at all.
She nodded, then began to make her careful way back down the path that led to Mrs. Wilson’s boarding house. After a long pause, she heard Robert’s feet crunch on the leaves, and knew that he’d stood there for a moment, watching her walk away, before turning to go as well.
For some reason, that image made her heart ache even more.
* * *
Danica’s landlady raised an eyebrow at the pile of leaves perched precariously in her tenant’s overskirt, but she didn’t say anything as Danica mumbled something about forgetting her basket, then hurried up the stairs so she could relieve herself of her burden. The leaves ended up in a messy heap on top of her dresser, since there wasn’t anyplace else for them to go. Then she more or less collapsed on the room’s single chair so she could press her fingers to her lips, recalling the touch of Robert’s mouth against hers.
God, she wanted him here, wanted him to push her down into the feather mattress, wanted to feel his body on top of hers, in hers. And that sure as hell wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.
At least Saturday night was bath night, so she was allowed the luxury of having the bathroom to herself for a good half-hour, letting the warm water lap at her skin. She cupped her hands around her breasts, wishing more than anything those were Robert’s hands, not her own. Just the mere thought brought on a throbbing heat between her legs. Maybe she should reach down, give herself the relief her body obviously needed.
Something about that felt wrong, though. Not the act itself — she’d certainly done so enough times when she was between boyfriends — but the thought of pleasuring herself when she knew it would only be a counterfeit of the contact she really wanted. Letting out a sigh, she reached for the Castile soap that sat in a little tray on the table next to the bathtub, then ran it over her arms. She’d already washed her hair separately, using the basin in the stand up against the wall. The bar soap designed specifically for washing hair that she’d bought at the general store did a better job than she’d expected, although once a week she did use a lemon rinse to get the residue completely off. Even so, she found herself wishing on more than one occasion that she could get her hands on a bottle of real modern-day shampoo.
All of which was just a distraction to keep her from thinking about Robert. Not that she was having much luck; as she got out of the bathtub and began to towel herself off, she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to take a bath with him — or, better yet, a real shower. That fancy rain-shower setup her cousin Lucas had installed in the master bedroom’s bath during the last redo of the cabin would be just about perfect.
Right. Like that was going to happen. She didn’t even have the guts to tell Robert where she’d come from, so it was quite a jump to go from the current status quo to imagining him in the shower with her, letting the water sluice down over both of them while she ran her hands over his naked body.
Still, it made for a nice mental image.
* * *
Danica reflected if someone had told her a few weeks ago that she’d actually look forward to going to church, she would have laughed in their face. That particular Sunday morning, however, she found herself continually glancing at the clock, willing ten o’clock to roll around. Which it did eventually. Or rather, five minutes before the hour, which was when she and Mrs. Wilson and Clara set out.
It was a blustery sort of day, the sky gray and lowering. Once or twice Danica felt a stray drop of cold rain sting against her cheek, and she prayed the skies wouldn’t open up until they were all safely inside. Clara kept peering this way and that, clearly looking for her Elias. She’d already announced at breakfast that she intended to sit with him that morning in church. Mrs. Wilson had only smiled indulgently, which seemed to indicate to Danica that her landlady more or less figured the engagement was a foregone conclusion.
At least Mrs. Marshall had sent a gracious little note over the day before, saying that she hoped Miss Prewitt would join her family in their pew again, so Danica didn’t have to worry about where she would end up. As to where Robert would decide to seat himself…well, that was the real question. He hadn’t been in church at all last week, but probably no one had thought much of it, since he was new in town and didn’t have any family or connections here.
They ducked inside the church just as the rain began to fall in earnest, and Danica let out a sigh of relief at the fortuitous timing. Her velvet hat would have been a wreck if she’d gotten caught in the storm. Fall in Flagstaff could be tricky; sometimes it was dry but chilly, sometimes stormy and wet. Either way, she made a mental note to stop in at Brannen’s general store after school on Monday to pick up an umbrella. A girl couldn’t be too careful after all.
After she murmured to Mrs. Wilson that she was going on to Mrs. Marshall’s pew, Danica stepped forward, barely paying attention as Clara moved quickly to the pew immediately to their left and settled herself next to Elias Hansen. Without being too obvious, Danica scanned the assembled crowd, but she didn’t see Robert anywhere. The Wilcoxes were already seated in their pews near the front, thank God.
She smiled a good morning at Mrs. Marshall as she sat down, although she was feeling anything but cheery. What if Robert had decided not to come after all?
No, she wouldn’t let herself think that. He probably planned to slip quietly into the back so he wouldn’t attract too much attention. She’d just have to try to catch a glimpse of him after church got out.
The low buzz of murmured conversation slowly died down as Reverend Pierce
made his way to the podium. A few seconds later, however, the murmurs rose again. Even though Danica knew she shouldn’t, she shifted slightly on the hard wooden bench so she could risk a quick glance backward.
Yes, there was Robert sliding into the very last pew on the left-hand side. His eyes caught hers, but only for a second before he looked away. But that was enough — for now, anyway. She’d seen him, and he’d acknowledged her as much as he could without revealing too much.
Heart beating a little faster, Danica turned toward the front of the church again. There were a few curious glances sent toward the pew where Robert sat, but no one said anything about why he had turned up in church today when he hadn’t attended before, and, thankfully, the Wilcoxes didn’t seem to have moved at all.
Probably too busy keeping all those kids in line to pay attention to what’s going on way in the back pew, Danica thought with some gratitude. From what she could see, Clay did seem a little squirmy this morning, although actually, the rest of the Wilcox children were sitting obediently enough next to their parents, eyes fixed forward.
Since this was her second go-round at the church, she was a little more prepared for the next hour, dutifully standing and singing the hymns at the appropriate intervals, then pretending to listen intently as Reverend Pierce delivered his sermon. In reality, she was thinking of how handsome Robert looked in his blue brocade waistcoat — why did that style have to go out of fashion, anyway? It was so much more attractive than anything the guys she knew wore — and what other stratagems she could cook up to get the two of them alone together. Too bad neither of them possessed a talent for teleportation. Then she could have easily popped herself into Robert’s hotel room, or him into her room at the boarding house, although she had to admit that scenario wouldn’t be ideal. Clara’s ears were much too sharp.
Throughout the service, which seemed interminable, rain drummed away on the roof of the church, and Danica had to keep herself from sighing. She’d get soaked on the way home, and there wouldn’t be any lingering in the churchyard and exchanging meaningful glances with Robert if this kept up. Damn the rain, anyway, although she knew they needed it.
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