“No, not at all,” Robert said. This time his tone was almost dry, but there was a flicker in his eyes Danica couldn’t quite read as he added, “More than one person has said you were very clever indeed, to get the richest man in Flagstaff paying such attention to you so soon after your arrival in town.”
Oh, they had, had they? So this was what people did before Facebook and Twitter…spent their days gossiping, apparently. All right, that was mostly what people did on Facebook, too, only it didn’t give Danica the same creepy feeling as realizing that everyone was talking about her behind her back. Especially when she hadn’t actually given them anything of substance to talk about.
“Oh, yes,” she shot back, voice equally ironic, “that’s precisely why I came here. I learned that one of the trustees was rich and handsome, and so I made sure to put myself deliberately in his way.”
“So you think he’s handsome?”
“I think most people would acknowledge that fact.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“Well, clearly you think that I think he is, so I’m not sure why you bothered to ask in the first place.”
“Because — ” Robert bit down on the word, as if making sure he wouldn’t allow himself to say anything else. Not looking at her, he flicked an entirely imaginary speck of dust off the lapel of his frock coat, then said, his tone hard, “Because Jeremiah Wilcox has put four wives in the ground. Now it has been almost two years since the last, and I fear he tires of his single state. I would hate to see you become his fifth victim.”
Danica’s irritation melted away as if it had never been. He must care about her a little bit, or he wouldn’t be saying such things. Hoping that Robert could hear the truth in her voice, she said, “I have no desire to be Jeremiah Wilcox’s wife.” And lord, a truer statement had never been spoken. Even if they hadn’t shared that familial connection, tenuous as it might be after so many generations, she knew what eventually happened to Jeremiah’s wives…what had happened to all the Wilcox wives, until Angela had come along to break the curse.
It did seem as if Robert could tell she was being sincere, since he took another step toward her. Now they were only a foot or so apart. If he wanted to, he could reach out and touch her arm, take her hand. Anything to show that his wasn’t the impersonal concern she feared it might be.
Another silence fell. Outside, the light had begun to slant toward sunset. It painted a rectangle of gold on the sleeve of Robert’s coat as it poured through the window, and warmed his blue eyes almost to green. The air seemed to thrum between them, heavy with things neither one of them had the courage to say.
Before she could even react, he was moving to her, one arm going to her waist so he could pull her close, the other caressing her cheek. Danica wanted to close her eyes at the exquisite tenderness of his touch, so different from —
No, she would not think about him right now. Not with Robert holding her the way she’d dreamed he might.
“I told myself I would not do this,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “This is not what I came here for.”
It would be a lie if she told him the same thing. In the back of her mind, she had hoped he would feel the same attraction for her that she did for him. Their stormy interactions after her arrival here had dimmed that hope, but now she realized he’d only been fighting his feelings, knowing that he should be concentrating on the task he’d been given, and not falling for the very unexpected witch he’d met.
So she only stared at him, mute, and tried to tell him with her eyes that it was all right, that she wanted him as well, and they’d find some way to make all this work so their involvement wouldn’t upset his plans.
She must have been successful in getting her message across, because in the next second he bent toward her, pressing his mouth against hers. His lips did feel just as good as she’d hoped, and he smelled good as well, of something just faintly spicy. Cologne, or hair tonic? She had no idea, and supposed it didn’t matter, because in the next second she felt his tongue touching her lip, but gently, as if he wasn’t sure how she would react.
Maybe properly brought up Victorian ladies didn’t French-kiss, but Danica didn’t care about that. She wanted to taste him…wanted all of him, although she knew better than to ask for anything more than this still rather chaste embrace at such an early stage in their relationship.
She opened her mouth to him, felt him pull her even closer as they explored one another, all the worry and the weariness of the past week gone as if it had never existed. It was enough to be here in his arms. Her stranger. Her ghost.
No, she shouldn’t have thought that. Because then the terrible memory surfaced in her mind, the one where that long-ago bullet struck him once again, red blossoming against the white of his shirt.
She didn’t recall making any sound, but she must have, for in the next instant he was pulling away, expression worried as he stared down at her. “Eliza — was that wrong of me? I apologize if — ”
At once she held up a hand. She didn’t want him thinking that she regretted the kiss. Her only regret was that it hadn’t happened sooner. But oh, the agony of hearing him say her borrowed name! After a kiss like that, she should at least have been able to hear him call her by the name that was truly hers.
“No — no, Robert. Don’t apologize. I — I wanted you to kiss me.”
“Then what is it? There was such a look of sadness on your face.”
“I — ” Oh, God. She had no idea what she could say to him. “I suppose I was only startled. In a good way,” she added hastily. “I was so worried that you disliked me.”
“Disliked you?” he responded, clearly startled. Then he shook his head, as if at himself. “That is entirely my fault. For I felt an attraction to you from the very moment I saw you in Brannen’s store, and yet I kept telling myself that I couldn’t indulge such a weakness, that I had been sent here by my clan for a reason, and that reason was not to give my heart to a beautiful stranger.”
Hot blood rose to Danica’s cheeks. “You think I’m beautiful?”
His eyebrows lifted, and then he gave her a lopsided smile. “You must know that. After all, I assume you look in a mirror each morning to arrange your hair, and so you must be able to see how lovely you are.”
“I — ” She shook her head. “Robert, you must stop making me blush. Anyway, when a woman looks in a mirror, she only sees the hairs that are out of place. She’s not studying her own looks.”
“Well, you should, if you’re so unfamiliar with them.” He came close to her then, bending down so he could press his lips to her cheek. Every nerve ending thrilled at his touch, even at so chaste a kiss. “My dear Eliza, you are a very distracting young woman. But even with that, I can’t allow myself to become too distracted.”
“I understand,” she said. “But really — I think you’re looking for problems where there are none.”
Something about him seemed to stiffen. “Are you trying to defend the Wilcoxes?”
No, she would not let herself become annoyed by his reaction. Not after that kiss. “Of course not. All I’m saying is that I’ve seen nothing that suggests you should be worried about them. Yes, I’ve only been here for a little more than a week, but during that time, nothing out of the ordinary has happened. And no one else seems to have anything bad to say about the Wilcox clan. Do you find it so difficult to believe that Jeremiah and his family might have learned something from their experiences in Connecticut, and so are trying to be as circumspect as possible?”
From the way he set his jaw, she thought he was having a very hard time believing it indeed. All right, he’d seen for himself — or at least heard firsthand accounts — how much havoc the Wilcox brothers could wreak. And she knew they weren’t angels, not by a long shot. But neither were they devils.
When Robert spoke, his voice seemed weighted with uncertainty. “But the way their luck never runs out — ”
“I know,” she said. “They ha
ven’t been very cautious in that. Look at it this way, though — if no one here in Flagstaff knows anything about our witch clans, that we even exist, why would they even suspect such a thing as too much luck in the first place? People can have strings of good luck without there being any kind of magic involved. So I don’t see why you can’t go back and report that to your elders.”
As soon as she made the suggestion, though, Danica regretted it. Yes, he’d get on the train and go back to Connecticut. He’d be safe, but where would that leave her…the two of them?
He seemed to be thinking the same thing. “And would you come, if I left?”
She blinked at him, not sure how to reply. In all the scenarios she’d imagined, she’d never thought of leaving Flagstaff but staying in 1884. Could she do that?
Robert would be safe, but she would be trapped in a time that wasn’t hers, a world where she’d be alone, except for Robert Rowe. Her family would never know what had happened to her. Could she do that to them, all for an attraction that was still very new and fragile?
Reaching out, he took her hands in his, grasped them tightly. She could feel the slight roughness of calluses on his fingers. So he wasn’t entirely a city boy.
“I could not leave this place if you weren’t with me,” he said, voice taut with need. “I know it must sound mad to you, but after tasting your lips, I know why I felt drawn to you from the first moment I saw you, even though I tried to fight those feelings.” He paused then, and his eyes caught hers, their blue so mesmerizing that she knew she couldn’t look away even if she tried. “I never thought I would settle down. My family despaired of me, but I was doing the work of our clan, and that was enough. Or so I thought. Now I know why I waited all this time. But now that I’ve found you, I can’t bear the thought of leaving you behind. Please, Eliza — tell me that you’ll come away with me when all this is done. Tell me you’ll come back with me to my home.”
What could she say to such a plea? She’d never had anyone look at her this way, like he’d just gotten a glimpse of the promised land and didn’t dare let it go.
Danica drew in a breath, then nodded. Maybe agreeing with him was crazy, but really, the whole situation was crazy. And she knew what he meant. She’d never felt this way before, either. It was supposed to happen that way for many witches and warlocks, this pull toward the person who was their other half, but she’d always thought the idea a fairytale, something that sounded good but couldn’t possibly happen in real life, since she’d never experienced even an echo of that kind of attraction. Now, though….
There was really only one way to answer. “Yes, Robert. I will come away with you.”
12
Danica would have asked herself just what the hell had possessed her, but she already knew the answer to that question. Robert Rowe’s mouth had possessed her, and the shape of his lips, and the sweet taste of his kiss.
Be careful what you wish for, the old saying went. She’d wished she could be with him, and now it seemed as if she might get that wish. A wish that included a world without her family — or at least a family she could acknowledge. Without her friends.
And without Internet, tampons, or toilet paper. They used newsprint here. She’d sort of gotten used to it, but some days she felt as if she’d cheerfully axe-murder someone for a couple of family-size packs of Northern toilet tissue. The tampons weren’t as much of a concern, since she’d had her period right before she time-jumped back to 1884. Anyway, she’d gotten a birth control implant last spring, only a few weeks before the ill-fated trip to Tucson, so her period wasn’t much of a bother. If she stayed here, the implant would have to remain in her arm, she supposed, although the hormones it was supposed to be dispensing would eventually run out.
But, setting aside all the triviality of those lost conveniences, could she do this? Give up everything to be with Robert Rowe?
Once again, she saw that bullet hitting his chest. If she changed his past, then the future would be unknown. And if she disappeared into nineteenth-century America, would that mean she’d never be born? What would change? Would Matías Escobar have found other victims to fuel his dark spells?
She shivered. Maybe it wouldn’t be Robert Rowe’s past they’d end up sharing, but her future. Could she tell him the truth, convince him to come back to future Flagstaff with her rather than remain here?
Right then, she just couldn’t say for certain. True, by their very nature, witches were more open to the strange and unusual than the rest of the population, but no one in her present seemed to know of anyone else who possessed her time-bending abilities. So maybe that meant there hadn’t been any time-traveling witches back here in the past, and so Robert would have no other precedents to rely on. He’d only have her word that she had come from a time other than now.
Danica sat on the narrow bed in her room at the boarding house, papers scattered around her. After she and Robert had parted, and he’d hurried out the school’s back door, she’d gathered up her work and brought it back to the boarding house. Since Mrs. Wilson thought she’d stayed late at the school to grade papers, Danica couldn’t spread them out over the dining room table the way she usually did. No, she was trying to work through them as best she could using the lap desk she’d bought a few days earlier at Brannen’s general store. “Trying” being the operative word. She couldn’t seem to focus.
Of course she couldn’t. Robert Rowe had kissed her. He wanted to take her away from here. But only after his work was done, whatever that meant. And she worried that the longer he stayed, and the more he snooped around, the more chance there was of him being driven toward whatever circumstances had caused the confrontation at the Wilcox homestead.
Someone knocked softly at the door, and Danica called out, “Come in.”
Clara entered, looking quite mysterious. She cast a glance over her shoulder toward the hallway, then shut the door behind her.
Repressing a sigh at this furtive behavior, Danica asked, “What is it, Clara?”
The other girl came to the foot of Danica’s bed and surveyed the mess of papers there. No doubt Danica herself was looking quite a mess as well — she’d taken off her boots and her bustle, and also removed the heavy pins from her hair. But she hadn’t been planning to leave her room again, now that they’d all eaten dinner, and so she’d thought she might as well make herself as comfortable as possible.
However, considering the way Clara planted her hands on her hips and shot her a knowing smile, Danica was beginning to think she would’ve been wiser not to respond to that knock.
And she should have made sure her door was locked.
Since she couldn’t do anything about it now, she waited for Clara to respond. Clearly, the other girl had something she wanted to get off her chest. And, judging by the smile playing around her lips, it wasn’t anything Danica particularly wanted to hear.
At last — probably because she’d decided that she’d drawn out her significant silence long enough, Clara said, “What was Mr. Rowe doing at the school this afternoon?”
Wonderful. And he’d sworn that he’d taken care to make sure no one had seen him enter the school’s grounds. Restraining herself, she circled “wander” on Clay Wilcox’s composition and changed it to “wonder,” then said, “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, is that a fact?” Clara crossed over to the small rickety chair at the dressing table, and pulled it out and sat down. Eyes avid with curiosity, she said, “Because I know what I saw, and that was Mr. Rowe walking toward the school and then cutting around to that vacant lot before he came up to the back door and went inside.”
This just kept getting better and better. Danica set down her pencil. “He — he wanted to apologize for something he said to me at the dance on Friday evening. That’s all.”
“So that was why you stormed out the way you did?” Clara nodded, as if satisfied that one mystery had been solved at least. Without waiting for Danica to reply, she went on,
“But why would he hold off until Monday to apologize?”
“Because that was the first time he had the opportunity to do so in private,” Danica said, giving the other girl a pointed look.
That remark didn’t seem to deter Clara, however. She leaned forward. “So what did he say that upset you so much?”
“I’m afraid that’s between Mr. Rowe and myself.” Seriously, Danica wanted to pat herself on the back for not losing her temper outright. As it was, her words were becoming more and more clipped, and if Clara had any sense, she’d shut up and go away.
Unfortunately, her curiosity seemed to override any judgment she might happen to possess. “I didn’t know you were even acquainted enough for him to have said something rude to you.”
“It wasn’t rude. It was a misunderstanding. That’s all.” Danica retrieved her pencil, then picked up a few papers at random and shuffled them in what she hoped was a sufficiently significant way. “But I do need to finish with these papers before I go to sleep — ”
That comment finally seemed to sink in. Clara got to her feet, a look of irritation passing over her features. “I was only trying to help, Eliza. Why, if anyone else had seen Mr. Rowe going into your classroom when you were all alone there….” She let the words trail off, and lifted one golden eyebrow in a suggestive manner.
Yeah, because of course what I really wanted was for him to bend me over my desk and take me then and there. Actually, come to think of it…
“If you’re suggesting anything improper, Clara, then go ahead and say it. I was there, and nothing happened. Mr. Rowe and I spoke for some time, and cleared the air between us. That’s all.” And he kissed me in a way no one ever has before….
But she would never say such a thing to her housemate, obviously.
Clara crossed her arms. “Of course I’m not suggesting anything. I’m only saying that’s what other people would have thought, if they’d seen it for themselves. So perhaps you and Mr. Rowe should be more careful with your…conversations.”
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