9. Wilcox Women
9
WILCOX WOMEN
“Oh, she was a lovely girl,” Mrs. Marshall said as she poured tea for Seth and Devynn. “Such a tragedy to have her disappear like that!”
“Do you really think something awful happened?” Devynn asked, putting on a surprisingly convincing expression of horror.
At once, Mrs. Marshall set down her rose-painted teapot so she could pat her guest on the hand. “No one knows for sure,” she said, her tone now ominous. “But your sister was a very dedicated teacher. I can’t imagine that she’d just run off with a stranger the way everyone in town was talking about it.”
“Really?” Seth put in. “Because the other people we’ve spoken with seem convinced she had some sort of a relationship with Mr. Rowe.”
Mrs. Marshall’s lips pursed. She was a sturdy woman in her late forties, with a few strands of gray beginning to show in her mid-brown hair. Seth knew she was a widow with two children because Devynn had helpfully provided that information on their walk over here, but so far, he’d seen no evidence of the boys. Possibly, they were off playing at a friend’s house.
And Mrs. Marshall had seemed glad to see him and Devynn, obviously relieved that some family members had come in search of the missing woman. She’d invited them into her parlor for tea, and of course they’d accepted. It was a cozy space, not nearly as fussy as Mrs. Wilson’s sitting room with its myriad figurines and vases and all sorts of other clutter. In fact, the only ornament on the wide oak mantel above the fireplace was a gilt-framed portrait of a stern-looking man that Seth guessed was the late Mr. Marshall.
“Well, people enjoy their gossip,” she remarked as she lifted her teacup to her lips. “But I like to think that I spent more time around your sister than almost anyone else, and I certainly saw no evidence that she had two thoughts to spare for Mr. Rowe. I think it’s a coincidence and nothing more that the two of them disappeared at the same time.”
A heck of a coincidence, Seth thought, but he didn’t say the words aloud.
“What do you think happened to Mr. Rowe?” Devynn asked.
Mrs. Marshall swallowed her tea, expression darkening. “I don’t like to speak ill of anyone, especially when I don’t have the facts in hand, but I know there was some bad blood between him and Mr. Samuel Wilcox. A very different man from his brother Jeremiah, unfortunately. Mr. Jeremiah Wilcox is an upstanding member of the community and a trustee at the school, and although I hate to speak ill of anyone connected to that family, I can’t help but think Mr. Samuel Wilcox had something to do with the way Mr. Rowe vanished into nowhere.”
She was certainly correct on that point, although Seth knew he couldn’t say anything to corroborate her suspicions.
Devynn’s hand went to her mouth, again giving a very good impression of a properly brought up young woman shocked by what their hostess was implying. “That’s terrible! Has the sheriff spoken with him?”
Before replying, Mrs. Marshall set down her teacup so she could reach for one of the sugar cookies she’d set out on a plate for her guests. No elaborate spread, of course, but it had been kind of her to offer any refreshments at all, considering the way they’d appeared on her doorstep out of nowhere.
She set the cookie on her plate, delicately broke it in half, and took a bite. “Not even the sheriff wants to get on the wrong side of the Wilcox family,” she said. “And again, all I have are suspicions and nothing more.”
“Do you think Samuel might also be connected to Eliza’s disappearance?” Seth asked then, and a sorrowful light flickered in the older woman’s dark eyes.
“There’s no real evidence of that,” she replied. “And certainly, while Mr. Samuel Wilcox possesses some less than sterling qualities, I’ve never heard anyone say that he isn’t devoted to his wife and children. I doubt very much anything of that nature was going on. But I suppose if your sister was connected with Mr. Rowe somehow, she might have been frightened by Mr. Samuel Wilcox and fled town. I can’t think of any other explanation.”
Obviously, Seth knew exactly what had happened — thanks to Devynn explaining the situation — but if he’d been lacking that information, he supposed he could see why Mrs. Marshall might have reached the conclusion she had.
“But surely she would have come home to St. Louis if she’d left Flagstaff in such a state of mind,” Devynn said, and Mrs. Marshall only looked more worried than ever.
“One would think so,” she replied. “It is such a long distance to travel, though, and surely not entirely safe for a pretty young woman on her own, even if she made her initial trip here without incident. I fear that whatever answers you’re looking for, you’re not likely to find them in Flagstaff. Have you inquired with the railway company?”
Of course they hadn’t, since “Eliza” had escaped the mountain town using a very different mode of transport than a train.
But Devynn stepped in there, saying, “We’ve asked some questions, but no one seems able to give us any clear answers. That is partly why we came all the way here in person — we thought if we could speak to the people who became acquainted with Eliza while she lived in Flagstaff, we might have a better idea of where she could have possibly gone.”
“I’m sorry you traveled so far for so little,” Mrs. Marshall said, sympathy clear in her expression. “But it’s as much a mystery to the rest of us as it is to you. Believe me, if I had a single shred of information I thought would be helpful, of course I would give it to you.” She stopped there, then asked, “Have you spoken with Mr. Wilcox?”
Seth was fairly sure she wasn’t referring to Samuel.
“We have,” Devynn responded. “But although he was very kind, he didn’t have any real information to give us, either. It truly is beginning to sound as though our sister has disappeared into thin air.”
And she reached for her teacup with a hand that shook faintly — a very nice touch.
Seth was beginning to think Devynn had missed her calling, for she appeared to him to be a very good actress.
However, he knew she hadn’t been acting when she kissed him or when they’d held hands and gazed into each other’s eyes just the day before, neither of them certain what their future might be.
If they had one at all. Not because they didn’t care for one another but because they couldn’t know for sure what the coming days might hold.
“I am so very sorry,” Mrs. Marshall said. “This must be so difficult for your family. Why, if one of my boys were to disappear like that, I’m not sure what I would do! But at the same time, I fear you will not find much to help you here.”
“Oh, everyone has been as helpful as they can,” he assured her. “It’s no one’s fault that the information we’re seeking can’t be found anywhere.”
She made a sorrowful sound before picking up her teacup once again. “The children are worried, too, as you might imagine. It was hard enough waiting for Miss Prewitt to appear at all, but to have her vanish in such a fashion has been difficult for them. While I could tell she wasn’t terribly experienced, she had a good rapport with her students, and they worked hard to please her. And they are not very happy having Mrs. Pierce as her replacement.”
“Mrs. Pierce?” Devynn echoed, and Mrs. Marshall smiled faintly. Seth thought it was good that she’d asked, since Jeremiah had mentioned the woman but hadn’t gone into any details as to how she’d ended up in charge of the school’s lower grades.
“The minister’s wife,” Mrs. Marshall explained. “She was a schoolteacher before she was married, and now that their children are grown, she has the time to help out until we can hire a new teacher. We’ve already put out the call, but I doubt we’ll get someone new until after the first of the year, even though I know Mr. Wilcox is hoping we might find a replacement before then. And while I admire Mrs. Pierce’s experience and her willingness to pitch in, I have to admit that her methods are somewhat…old-fashioned…and the students much preferred having Miss Prewitt as their teacher.”
Understandable. He couldn’t think of many school-age children who wouldn’t prefer having a pretty young teacher over an older one who was probably something of a stick in the mud. Seth knew he might be biased, but he hadn’t met too many preachers’ wives who were exactly the life of the party.
“We’re sorry they’ve had to go through all this,” Devynn said. “And I hope your search for a new teacher won’t take as long as you fear it might.”
Mrs. Marshall sighed. “I’d like to believe that, but since we’ve just started getting applicants and we probably won’t make a decision until at least the beginning of December, I suppose it won’t make much sense to have anyone come all the way out here, only to arrive just as the children will be going on their holiday recess.” She paused there, then shook her head, as if at herself. “And here I am rambling on about these things when you two have plenty of your own worries to attend to.”
“Oh, it’s fine,” Devynn hurried to say. “We completely understand why you would be concerned about the students at the school.”
It seemed to Seth that they’d said about all they needed to say, so he thought he might try to wrap things up and leave their hostess to enjoy the rest of her day off. “Thank you so much for taking the time to talk to us,” he said as he got up from his place on the settee.
To his relief, Devynn took the cue and rose as well, running a hand over her skirts to smooth away any wrinkles the heavy cotton might have acquired during the time she was seated. “Yes, Mrs. Marshall — we certainly appreciate it.”
She stood, too, expression still worried. “I fear I haven’t been much help — ”
“Oh, but you have,” Devynn broke in, her face and tone earnest. “You’ve let us know that people here appreciated and cared about our sister, and that is always something we can hold close to our hearts.”
A faint smile touched the older woman’s mouth. “You are very kind. And if I think of anything, of course I will send you a note. You’re staying at the Hotel San Francisco, I assume?”
There were other hotels in town, but the Hotel San Francisco was definitely the finest. Seth supposed it was a sign of approval that Mrs. Marshall couldn’t imagine them securing lodging anywhere else.
“Yes, we are,” he replied. “And we plan to be here for at least a few more days, so please, if something else comes to mind, go ahead and send us word at the hotel.”
“I will.”
That seemed to be that, and they exchanged goodbyes, with him and Devynn emerging in the crisp fall air just a few moments later.
“I felt kind of bad lying to her,” Devynn said once they were a safe distance from the house. “She seems like a nice person.”
Seth agreed with that sentiment, even as he also knew they didn’t have any choice except to keep up the fiction that they had no idea what could have happened to their lost sister. “Well, you gave her some kind words there at the end. I’m sure Mrs. Marshall appreciated that.”
A small tilt of her head, but Devynn didn’t quite look at him. Today she’d pulled her hair into a tightly braided bun at the back of her head, a style that seemed to fit more with what most women wore here, although he thought it had been prettier when she’d allowed her long locks to fall loose over her shoulders. Still, with her hair drawn away from her face like this, he could better see the fine lines of her neck and jaw, pure and graceful as a carving on a cameo.
Dear Goddess, how he wanted to kiss her.
But even as heat pulsed through him, he did what he could to ignore the surge of desire. What would the proper Mrs. Marshall think if she should look through her lacy curtains to see the supposed “brother and sister” kissing one another on the quiet lane that led to her house?
Nothing good, he thought grimly.
It was the sort of behavior that could get you run out of town on a rail.
“I still don’t like it,” Devynn said after a long pause. She tilted a look up at him, the ostrich feathers on her black velvet hat dancing in the fresh breeze that swept down from the San Francisco Peaks, and he could almost see her thrust those worries away as she arranged a more pleasant expression on her face. “But what should we do now?”
“Lunch,” he responded immediately. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t think a single sugar cookie is enough to tide me over until dinner.”
She chuckled then, and the sound seemed genuine enough. “No, you’re probably right. What did you have in mind?”
Luckily, he’d already thought of that. “We passed several restaurants on the way to the general store, one of them in the Banks Hotel. Why don’t we try that one and see how it compares to the restaurant where we’re staying?”
“Sounds like a great idea,” Devynn replied, and looped her arm in his. That sort of contact was innocent enough that he doubted anyone would raise an eyebrow at a brother offering his sister an arm to steady her as they walked along the uneven streets, and yet he once again felt a little thrill go through him, one he knew signaled that he was open to much more intimate contact.
It wasn’t going to happen, though. Yes, he supposed their hotel rooms were private enough once they were inside, and yet they couldn’t take the risk of having anyone passing by in the hallway seeing them come and go at odd hours. As much as he disliked the idea, Seth knew they would have to be extremely careful during their tenure here.
And pray that it wouldn’t go on for too long.
The restaurant was very pleasant, with round tables topped by white cloths and gilt-framed mirrors on the walls. Because it was a little past peak lunchtime — and probably because it was a weekday — Seth and Devynn were shown to a table almost as soon as they walked in. And when he scanned the menu the waiter had handed him, he saw it had plenty of familiar food on it — baked ham and trout and roast chicken and sausage.
Devynn looked it over as well, and although not much about her expression changed, he could tell she wasn’t quite as pleased with the offerings.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. “We can go someplace else — ”
Immediately, she shook her head. “No, it’s fine,” she said. “But by the time we’re done with all this, I’ll be ready to kill for a salad.”
“Fruit salad?”
Now she grinned. “No, a salad of greens. Different types of lettuce, with tomatoes and cucumbers and a vinaigrette dressing.”
While Seth had to admit that sounded refreshing, he wondered if such a meal would have much staying power. It wasn’t that he’d never had salad in the summer when the ingredients were available, but it was always an adjunct to the rest of his food, not the main course.
It sounded as though quite a few things were different in the future. Just knowing that Devynn had experienced the sorts of things that should have sounded like pure science fiction — except that they were real — made a stir of excitement go through him.
He thought it might not be such a bad thing to experience that future for himself.
The waiter came back and they both ordered tea, while Seth asked for the baked ham and Devynn ordered chicken. Once that was handled, he gave a brief glance around — no one seemed to be paying any particular attention to them, but he still knew he needed to check — and then said, “Can you think of any other people we should visit?”
“No,” Devynn replied, the amused expression she’d worn a moment earlier slipping away. “Like I said, it wasn’t as if my mother partied hard while she was here. She taught classes and lived at the boarding house, and it sounded as though she had dinner at Emma’s house a couple of times, but I don’t think there’s anyone else she really interacted with on a regular basis.”
Interesting that Danica Wilcox had dined at the healer’s house more than once. Were the Wilcoxes just being hospitable…or had they been auditioning her as a prospective spouse for their multiple-widowed primus?
Maybe a little of both. In the end, it hadn’t come to anything, not once Danica had revealed her true origins and Jeremiah Wilcox had realized there would be no relief from the curse.
Not in this life, anyway.
The waiter came by with their tea and Seth thanked him, then poured some out of the little white pot into Devynn’s cup before filling his cup as well. “So it seems there isn’t much we can do until you meet with Jeremiah on Monday.”
“Not really,” she replied. “Although I suppose we could see if there’s anything happening here in town. My mother didn’t talk about much of a nightlife — well, except a harvest dance she went to — but there’s got to be something to do around here besides just hanging out in a saloon.”
A diversion Devynn would definitely have to avoid if she wanted to keep up the pretense that she was a properly brought- up young lady from back East. “Well, we can take a look when we go walking after lunch,” Seth said. “Maybe there’ll be posters or something.”
He knew he sounded dubious, because what he’d seen so far of Flagstaff hadn’t indicated that it did much more than provide the various loggers and ranchers who populated the area with a place to eat and shop and stay. But possibly they had theaters with live acts or something similar, although he knew movie theaters wouldn’t come along for decades.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Devynn replied.
The waiter came by with their food then, and for a minute or so, the two of them were quiet as they attended to their meals.
But then a half-familiar woman’s voice said, “Mr. and Miss Prewitt?” and both he and Devynn looked up from their lunches.
Approaching their table was a group of four women, all of them dressed in elaborate bustle gowns, their heads bedecked with feathered hats in various shapes and sizes. Three of them had dark hair, while one of them, in striking contrast to the others, was almost white blonde.
He recognized the woman who had spoken, though.
Emma Garnett, Jeremiah’s sister.
At once, he set aside his napkin and stood. “How very good to see you, Mrs. Garnett.”
“And good to see the both of you out and about,” Emma replied, her gaze moving to Devynn. Seth realized then that the Wilcox healer had never gotten a chance to truly check on her patient, and was probably surveying her carefully to make sure she didn’t show any lingering signs from her near-death injury.
But Devynn had been doing very well, and now appeared blooming and in the peak of health, so he guessed Emma must be pleased with her patient’s progress.
“How are you enjoying Flagstaff?” she went on, and this time, Devynn was the one who replied.
“Oh, we’re having an excellent time,” she said. “The fresh air is marvelous. But my brother and I were wondering if you knew of anything happening in town that might provide some diversion this evening? We are finding it rather tedious to do nothing except retire to our rooms and read after dinner.”
One of Emma’s elegant black brows lifted, but she still smiled in response, even as her companions murmured amongst themselves. “I believe a group of traveling performers have a show of various monologues and sketches at the Sundown Theater over on Leroux Street,” she said. “While we haven’t had a chance to attend, I have heard good things.” A pause, and then she added, “But where are my manners? Let me introduce you to my sisters-in-law. This is Mrs. Grace Wilcox, my brother Samuel’s wife” — she inclined her head toward the one blonde among the group — “and this is Mrs. Lita Wilcox, who is married to my brother Edmund, and Mrs. Jenny Wilcox, whose husband is my youngest brother Nathan. It is a little tradition of ours to go out for lunch one Saturday each month, so I think it was fortuitous that we should run into you. Everyone, this is Mr. and Miss Prewitt from St. Louis, come to explore a little of our corner of the Wild West.”
All the other women murmured greetings of one form or another, although Seth couldn’t ignore the way Grace’s eyes narrowed and her expression was barely polite. Well, even though they were all acting as though they’d never heard of the visitors, he knew that Jeremiah had already told his family why they were here, and he guessed that bit of information wouldn’t exactly make him or Devynn terribly welcome.
And the Goddess only knew what Samuel had been saying about the two of them, if his wife’s reaction was any indication.
To Seth’s relief, though, the Wilcox women didn’t linger, only said a few courteous words about hoping he and his sister would continue to enjoy their stay in Flagstaff before they headed for the door, silk skirts rustling as they went. And after they were gone, both he and Devynn were studiously silent for a moment.
But then she looked across the table at him and said, “Do you think that was a coincidence?”
“I honestly don’t know,” he replied. “Did they do a lot of things together when your mother was here?”
Devynn’s shoulders lifted. “It sounds like they’re a pretty close-knit family, but I don’t know for sure whether that included going out to lunch together. On the other hand, it wasn’t as if my mother was around them all the time, so I guess we might as well give them the benefit of the doubt.” She reached for her fork, which she’d set down during that interaction with the Wilcox women, and a small smile touched her lips. “But at least they gave us some information about the show at the Sundown Theater. That’s worth checking out, right?”
“Definitely,” he agreed, glad that she now looked a little more cheerful.
He felt somewhat more cheered as well. After all this wandering around town and talking to people who had absolutely no useful information to provide about “Eliza Prewitt” — even if he and Devynn didn’t really need such information — he thought a little diversion would be a good idea.
It looked as if they might get to have a date after all, even if they had to pretend to be brother and sister the whole time.