increased tenfold.
One midday, after some particularly grueling lovemaking, they lay in bed, trying to gather their energy and rest their sore muscles.
Isabella stood, looked at herself in the mirror for a few moments, then turned back toward him. 'they are afraid of me, William. I can feel it. They think I killed Jeb, and you know I could never do such a thing. I cannot take back what I did to those men after I first arrived, but I should not have to suffer forever for doing what any of them would have done if they were in my place.'
This was all a surprise, and he was not prepared for such a conversation. His brain was still numb, thinking about what they had just done, and he sat up in bed and shook his head, trying to clear it.
'What?' are they all talking about it. Everyone in town. I have heard them, whispering behind my back. They think I killed Jeb. They blame me for his death.'
William stood, padded over to her. 'No, they don't,' he
lied. He put his arms around her, held her close. He had hoped to be able to keep this from her.
'Yes, they do,' she said. 'And they are afraid of me.' 'No.'
Her voice dropped. 'Maybe they should be afraid.' 'Isabella!'
She sighed, pulled away from him. The expression on her face was unreadable and emphasized that wild beauty which had so enchanted him on first meeting her. He realized that he did not know her any better now than he had then. He loved her, but he didn't know her.
'People are frightened,' he told her. 'they do not know what killed Jeb and that scares them, something which is entirely understandable.
They are upset.'
'Upset enough to undo all that you have done for them?' 'What are you talking about?'
'They no longer trust you because you are married to me.'
'That's nonsense.'
'Some are even thinking of leaving!'
The words hit him like a physical blow. He sat down hard on the bed, not wanting to believe what she'd said but instinctively recognizing its veracity. He stared down at the floor. His dream was unraveling.
The anniversary of the town had passed without comment or acknowledgment, his celebratory plans derailed by Jeb's death. Now people were threatening to tear asunder all they had worked toward over the past decade due to fear and suspicion and unfounded allegations.
There was an empty hole inside him, and he admitted to himself that perhaps his idea for a town where those like himself could live in peace, without fear of persecution, was doomed to be a noble failure
'This is wrong,' Isabella said. 'We cannot allow decisions based on lies to destroy all that we have worked for.
Their fear of Jeb's death will render the actions of his life meaningless if we do not hold together.'
She was right, and he felt a renewed sense of pride, a reinvigorated determination to keep Wolf Canyon from tear thing itself apart. He had been wrong to ignore the rumors and whispers. That was not the way for a leader to act. He should have allayed people's fears, should have made it clear that no matter what outside threat confronted them, they would stick together and he would lead them.
'Yes,' he said.
'We need to convince them to stay. It's for their own good. It's for the good of all of us. We must all hang together, else we shall all hang separately.'
He smiled. '-You are right,' he said. 'We will convince them to stay.'
She leaned closer. 'if they do not want to stay, they are traitors. If we let them go, if we let them escape, they will betray us. We must keep them here.'
He shook his head. 'This is a free country and a free town. That is why it was founded. We do not want people who do not want to be here.'
'they are here. It is time for them to take some responsibility for their actions, to support others of their kind who do want to be here.'
'I will call a town meeting,' William promised. 'I will talk to everyone. I will convince them to remain.'
'And if we cannot convince them, we will make them.' He looked at her.
'We will make them,' she repeated more strongly. And though her words frightened him, he found himself nodding in agreement.
Now
Miles dreamed he was swimming in a pool and the water around him was gradually darkening. He popped his head above water and he was no longer in a pool but in a lake. His limbs were tired, the closest shore was several hundred yards away, and he knew that if he did not get started now, he would not be able to make it. He began paddling as hard as he could, but when he looked up again, there was no shore.
There was no land. He was in the middle of an ocean, and the water was black. Above, the sky was gray and cloud less. He felt something cold touch his feet, felt something slimy slide past his midsection. Then hands grabbed his limbs and dragged him down into water that lightened from black to the deep crimson color of blood. His lungs were about to burst from the pressure, and involuntarily he opened his mouth to breathe, but there was only the red water, and he sucked it into his lungs and knew that he was about to die.
He awoke to feel an arm around his midsection, and he opened his eyes, looked next to him--and saw Claire.
He smiled, reached over, touched her cheek. She stirred in her sleep, rolled omo her side.
Claire had spent the night, and they had gone to bed together They had made love. It was something he'd been thinking about ever since he'd called her, and he still couldn't believe that it had actually happened. The experience had been tremendously exciting, but it had also been
comfortable, acombination he had never before encountered. Their past had informed their present in a way that was wonderfully liberating, a their lovemaking had been exhilarating.
They had still not talked about where they were in their relationship, whether they were getting back together permanently or if this was just a little fling, a nostalgic visit back to the good old days. They'd talked of everything else, conversing with a candor that had never been possible during their marriage. But somehow they could not seem to broach the subject of their feelings for each other. It was as if both of them were afraid the spell would be broken. Miles glanced over at the clock on the dresser. Seven-fifteen!
He kicked off the covers, leaped out of bed, and shook Claire awake. He had forgotten to set the alarm last night, and they were going to have to hurry like hell if either of them hoped to make it to work on time.
'Get up!' he said. 'It's fifteen after seven!' Announcement of the time jolted her into action in a way his shaking of her had not, and for five minutes they ran around the bedroom grabbing clothes and putting them on, practically bumping heads, like some silent screen comedy duo. She was faster than he was, having gathered her hair into a quick ponytail while he wet his head under the sink faucet so his hair would be manageable enough to comb. She kissed him on the cheek as he was brushing his teeth, said good-bye, and promised to come by after work. Before he could even rinse and spit, she was out the door and gone.
Traffic as usual was horrendous, and he had plenty of time to think while he sat in an unmoving line of cars that followed the path of the freeway downtown.
He had opened up to Claire about his visit with Hec Tibbert, telling her the story of Wolf Canyon, even talking about the homeless woman in the mall and the possibility that his
father was tied up in this somehow. She suggested that he sta out the shopping center or the streets around it and see if he couldn't find the old lady again. A lot of homeless people were territorial, so the woman might be still hanging around.
He himself thought it would be more productive to confront Liam once more, this time taking Tibbert with him. Liam obviously knew a lot more than he was telling. It was highly likely that he knew what was behind all this, and if Miles could get the two men together and start them talking, perhaps he'd be able to squeeze some
