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Prologue
SILVERVEIL, NEWMEXICOTERRITORY
JUNE1904
Isabella Garcia followed her father into his spacious library, never once stopping her pleading.
“Papi, you must hear me. I’m eighteen years old—old enough to make such a decision for myself. You know how much I hate this place. You forced me to leave the home I loved in California and dragged me here years ago. I have survived it only because you allowed me to spend this summer and last with Aunt Josephina back in California.”
Daniel Garcia fixed his daughter with a stern look. It was obvious he was already tired of this topic. “Be that as it may, Isabella, you cannot live with my sister. I will not allow it, and neither will Josephina. She understands the situation and knows that I want only the best for you.”
Isabella planted her hands on her hips. “How can this be best? You have forced me to endure this tiny silver-mining town that you created in the middle of the desert. I have lived here for eight years, and the only thing that has gotten methrough are the visits to Aunt Josephina back on the family estate.” She began to pace. “Honestly, I don’t know why you are being so pigheaded, Papi. I have been a dutiful daughter. I have done as you demanded. I endured being torn from my home—the only place I ever loved—and brought here. I have been obedient to my tutors and music teachers. I have done all that was asked of me, and nowIask for something, and you refuse. You are cruel and heartless.”
“I am neither, Isabella,” her father said, his tone betraying his exasperation. He sank into his desk chair and ran his hand through black hair that was turning gray much too quickly. “You aren’t even eighteen and hardly old enough to know what is best for your future. You have not yet reached your majority, and as such, you must live by my rules. I have tried to make your burden lighter by allowing you to spend summers with your aunt, but there is much here that you still need to learn.”
“Such as what?” She stepped closer to his desk. “And please don’t tell me how I need to know the people better and to serve them with greater respect. I care nothing for Silver Veil and the industry you’ve created. I love California. I love the beautiful people there and the parties and comforts that are at my fingertips. I love Aunt Josephina and the horse-breeding estate that my great-grandfather built. That is home to me now, as it was when I was a girl. Why are you determined to keep me from it?”
He sighed. “In time you will understand. Your mother and I need you here. We want you to know what it is to care for others. The people of Silver Veil are dependent upon us for their jobs, their homes, everything. You must learn to be a good caretaker.”
“I don’t wish to be their caretaker, Papi. I never asked for that job. I want to live in my ancestral home. It is my destiny—my legacy from our ancestors—yet you act as though it is something shameful.”
“I never said it was shameful. But there is more to it than you seem to understand. When you have wealth and property, you owe a certain amount of your success to the people who help you—who work for you and with you. You act as though money comes up from the ground or rains down from the skies for the taking.” He smiled and shook his head. “My dear Isabella, you are a fortunate girl. You have been born to blessings, and as such, you must learn the value of blessing others.”
“Then let me bless them in California!” She raised her voice, then lowered it just as quickly. “Papi, I know I seem overly passionate, but that is because it means so much to me. The estate is where I belong. My friends are there. I have no friends here.”
“That is how you have chosen it to be. There are people here who would love to be your friend, but you pulled away and hid yourself here at the house or out riding your horse.”
“I didn’t want to make friends because...well, it hurt so much when you took me away from them in California. I don’t ever want to hurt that much again.”
Her father’s expression softened, and for a moment, Isabella thought she’d won him over.
But then he stood and fixed her with a look she knew well: He would hear nothing more about it. “The matter is closed. You will be allowed to spend the summer with my sister, but then you will return in the fall to help your mother as she works with the people of Silver Veil. This is my decision. If you refuse to do things my way, you will forfeit your summer in California.”
Isabella said nothing as he left the library. Her handsgripped her skirts, and her mouth was clamped shut so tightly that her jaw ached. How could he be so heartless? He was impossible.
She wouldn’t give up. She would ask again and again, until he let her return to California for good.
“You are a terrible father and a horrible man,” she said, shaking her fist at the door.
“I think he’s a rather good man.”
She startled and whirled around to see a man coming around the corner of one of the bookshelves. She didn’t know who he was, but it was clear he’d overheard her conversation.
“And I think you are a rather rude one.” As he drew near, she caught a whiff of his cologne. It was musky and sweet, not at all unpleasant, but she decided then and there that she hated it.
He gave her a lopsided smile. “I’ve been called worse.”
“I’m sure you have. You are a terrible person to listen to a private conversation between a father and daughter.”
“You are perhaps correct that I am rude—even terrible—for not making myself known. But you, on the other hand, are a spoiled, ungrateful child, and I hardly feel obligated to explain myself to you.” He picked up his hat from a nearby table. “Now, I will excuse myself. Your father and I have business to discuss regarding the spur line into Silver Veil. I’m sure your little episode has probably made him forget, but I’m anxious to see our business concluded so I can return to, shall I say, a less confrontational atmosphere.”
“You are incorrigible. I hope you do go quickly and never return, Mister...”
“Bailey. Aaron Bailey.”
“Well, good riddance, Mr. Bailey. I hope never to see youagain.” She started to storm out of the room, then paused. “And I hate your cologne!”
He chuckled. “Don’t you mean that you hate me?”
She narrowed her eyes and gave him a curt nod. “Yes! I do.”
