She'd escaped only by killing a baby girl and threatening death for all other infants, blight and disease for all crops and livestock.
A baby girl.
William didn't like that, but though he could not imagine himself ever doing such a thing, he realized that these were desperate times for their kind. He had not been there. Who was he to judge? Besides, maybe he too would be capable of such an act if it meant his own survival. Maybe.
But he didn't think so.
He would have found some other way to demonstrate his power.
He watched Isabella as she rode along the barely discernible trail.
There was a hardness to her--the familiar hardness of whores--but something else as well, something solid, icy, and unfathomable that penetrated the deepest center of her being. She was not like anyone he had ever met, and though that made him wary, it also at acted him. He was enticed by her mystery and her strength as much as by her beauty.
She glanced over at him. "Where are you from?" she asked. "And where are you going?"
He told her about Wolf Canyon, how he'd come up with the idea and gone about getting a grant of government land, how it offered a place of safety and refuge for those of their kind, a chance to live in peace without having to always worry about exposure. Her eyes widened at the news, and he saw in her face the excited wonder and anticipation he had seen in so many others when they first learned that they had a community of their own.
He was returning from a meeting in Cheyenne with a government representative, he told her. The mine in Wolf Canyon had proved to be quite profitable, and there had been some question as to whether the government had to buy the mined ore from them or whether it was entitled to the ore outright since the land deed specified occupational rights, not mineral rights. The official with whom he'd met had signed a document granting the residents of Wolf Canyon all land rights and agreeing to buy at full market value any ore mined.
Isabella grinned. "Did you force him into signing?" William was puzzled for a moment. "Did I--?" Then he understood what she was getting at. "You mean, did I use magic?"
She nodded.
"No. Of course not."
"Would you have? If you needed to do so?" "I hadn't thought about it." "Think about it now."
He was uncomfortable with this line of thought, but it took him only a moment to declare emphatically, "No, I would not have used magic."
"Hmmm." She nodded, saying nothing else, and they con tinned on for a while in silence.
He knew what her answer would have been, and while it disturbed him, he could understand her feelings and was not entirely unsympathetic.
They were soon talking once again, and of course she asked about the town. He invited her to accompany him, to visit if she wanted, to stay if she so desired, and Isabella quickly agreed to come.
Most witches did not realize how alone their live were, and the existence of Wolf Canyon captured the interest of all of them, offering a sense of true community, isabella was no different. She continued asking about Wolf Canyon, and he delighted in telling her stories of the people and the places, introducing her to individuals she had yet to meet. By the time they finished the long trek to Arizona Territory, she would probably know the town as well as anyone who lived there.
The day passed quickly. Isabella was a wonderful traveling companion, and the more time he spent with her, the more impressed he was with her wit, her intelligence, and her remarkable beauty.
She gave herself to him that night, on the ground, under the stars.
There was a dark strangeness to her desires, and a willingness to assert herself, that made him embarrassed and uncomfortable but with which he willingly went along. She touched him in places he had never been touched before, both literally and figuratively, and by the time it was he over knew and they that he were loved lying her. in dirt that had since become mud,
Jeb was not so easily won over. Neither were most of the other people in town. They were nice to Isabella, friendly up to a point, but she seemed to elicit suspicion and misgivings of a type that none of their previous settlers had. William put it down to jealousy for the most part. He was, after all, the town's leader and founder, and it was only natural that his older friends would feel left out because of the amount of time he spent with her.
But that didn't explain all of -it, and the uneasiness that the others seemed to feel around Isabella was, he had to admit, not entirely absent from his own thoughts.
A baby girl.
Still, she was one of them, and it was easy for him to overlook in her what in someone else might be serious cause for concern.
Besides... he loved her.
She moved directly into his house, and though he made a pretense of offering her a room of her own, Isabella informed him bluntly that they would be sleeping together.
There was no period of adjustment for her. If she noticed the reservations other people seemed to have, she gave no indication. She behaved as though she had been born here, immediately insuring herself into the life of the community, planting spontaneously germinating flowers along the streets in town, bringing her considerable powers to bear on the struggling apple orchard, transforming William's house from the spartan living quarters of a bachelor to a beautiful happy home.
She was more assertive than the other women in town, more like a man, and that seemed to unnerve a lot of the residents. She had a regal ness to her beating, a selfconfidence that bordered on arrogance and set her apart no matter how much she tried to fit in. So when she started taking extra duties upon herself, it seemed perfectly natural.
The truth was, William was happy to have someone with
whom he could share the pressures of his position. Jeb was his right-hand man, and the two of them talked over everything, but the final decision was always his to make. He was grateful for Isabella, grateful to have someone more intimate than a friend or an adviser who could understand and share his feelings and often help him come to a decision.
She'd been in Wolf Canyon for nearly half a year when she first made the choice to act independently. Their settlement was far off the beaten track and they rarely had outside visitors, but it had happened once or twice before, and this time a trio of men heading to Yuma were passing through and stopped.
As always, the residents were on their best behavior. They had discussed this among themselves in numerous town meetings, and they'd unanimously decided to hide all evidence of magic from outsiders, not wanting word to spread. Their rights were legally protected by the United States government, but the territories were far from Washington, and out here legal protection and real protection were often two different things.
So the people on the street smiled at the three men as they rode in and waved at them, pretending as though there was nothing out of the ordinary here and they were just typical settlers.
William was standing with Jeb outside the livery stables when they heard the excited commotion and turned to see the strangers passing through a growing crowd of townspeople. They were obviously headed for the saloon, looking to wet their whistles, and William felt more than a little proud that there was a place where travelers could get some whiskey.
He looked at Jeb, and the two of them started down the street.
"Don't say anything," Jeb told him.
"I never do."
The men had tethered their horses and were about to walk into the saloon when Isabella appeared, as if from nowhere, and barred their way. The man in the lead, a burly bearded fellow wearing about three days' worth of dust on his leather hat and clothes, stopped short, confused. He nodded at her, tipped his hat, tried to smile. "Pardon me, ma'am." Isabella remained in place.