The Enchanted Land (36 page)

Seth removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow. Then he looked around. Morgan held her breath. She was thankful she’d worn her dark green riding habit.

Seth did not really see the place where Morgan stood, half hidden in the dense underbrush. Quickly, he removed his clothes and stepped into the water. He splashed himself, enjoying the coolness. Morgan looked on in fascination at the magnificent body she had once known so well, the powerful arms and shoulders, the muscles that stood out in his thighs.

Seth was used to the dangers of New Mexico, where a second’s heedlessness could cause one’s death. Over the years he had developed a second sense concerning these hazards. He stood still. He knew someone was watching him. He pivoted on one foot and faced Morgan, who gasped. Their eyes locked and held.

“Care to join me?”

She didn’t answer, but whirled on her heel and returned to her waiting horse. She returned to her favorite spot and allowed the horse to drink before returning to the house. She tried not to think of Seth.

At dinner, the sight of Seth caused the blood to rush to her face. She refused even to glance his way during dinner. As they walked to the courtyard, Seth whispered, “Did you enjoy your bath as much as you enjoyed mine?” Blushes covered her body, and she was glad for the darkness.

I
T
had been a little over two weeks since Seth had come to the Three Crowns. Since the time Morgan had seen him in the pool, she had avoided him. She saw him even less now than she had when he’d lived in the bunkhouse. He took his responsibilities as foreman very seriously and often missed dinner to straighten out some problem on the ranch. Even when Morgan came down to breakfast, she found he had already been at work for hours. What free time he did manage, he spent with Adam Morgan sometimes felt Seth paid more attention to Roselle than he did to her. She was, of course, glad of that.

It was on one of the rare mornings when the three of them breakfasted together that Gordon made his announcement. “My letter finally came. I’ll be leaving for New York.”

“What?” She dropped her spoon.

“Morgan, I’ve told you about this trip for months, so don’t look so surprised.”

“Adam and I will go with you.”

“Sit down. You are not going with me. It will be a hurried trip and Adam is too young to have to travel for days on a stagecoach and then on a train. I won’t hear of it. It’s too dangerous.”

Seth turned to Gordon. “Is it ranch business that takes you to New York?”

“Morgan’s father once heard about some cattle bred
in the Scottish Highlands. He thought they might adjust to New Mexico, so he started working on getting them here. After several years, they’ll soon arrive in this country. I figure if I’m not there to meet the ship when it docks, they’ll sell my cattle to someone else.”

“When are you leaving?” Morgan’s voice was soft.

“Right after breakfast.”

“Today! You’ll be leaving
today
?”

Gordon stared at her a moment. “Yes. The letter took a long time coming and now I’ll barely make it there in time for the ship. Martin is packing for me now.”

After breakfast, Morgan tried again to persuade him to let Adam and her go with him.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be back shortly, and Dave is here to take care of Adam and you.”

“Adam, yes—but not me.”

Gordon looked weary. “If I didn’t trust Dave as much as I do, I wouldn’t leave him here alone with you. When you get over your hostility, you’ll trust him, too. I have to leave now or I’ll never make the stage. Kiss me goodbye?”

“Gladly.” She happily slid into Gordon’s arms and lifted her lips for his kiss. Gordon was the man she wanted to love.

With great effort, he resisted her lips and placed a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Now, get Adam so I can say goodbye.”

Morgan held her son and they both waved to Gordon. When she turned back to the house, it seemed empty already. Adam squirmed out of her arms. He ran to the kitchen and she followed him. Tonight she would be alone with Seth. Without Gordon’s presence, he could talk to her about anything. She began planning the night’s meal, remembering Seth’s favorite dishes without realizing she was doing so.

She worked all day on the meal, glad to be too busy
to think. Roselle put Adam to bed for his nap. Morgan rested for a while when the house was quiet. She worked again in the kitchen until it was time to bathe and dress for dinner. Roselle took charge of Adam.

From the back of the wardrobe, she took a dress that she had rarely ever worn before. It was simply cut, a deep golden yellow, embroidered with tiny sienna rose-buds around the neckline. The neckline was the reason she seldom wore the dress. It fell across her shoulders and the top of her breasts, stopping just above the rosy peaks. When she stood in front of the mirror, she remembered the last time she’d worn the dress. Charley Farrell had gaped at the enticing sight and she had been embarrassed at the open-mouthed stare he’d worn all evening.

She briefly asked herself why she was wearing this now when she and Seth were to be alone. She’d never worn it for Gordon. She told herself that she was wearing this only because she hadn’t worn it in such a long time. She dabbed perfume on her wrists, behind her ears, and in the deep shadow between her breasts.

Carol came to tidy the room. “You look especially lovely, Mrs. Colter,” the girl remarked shyly. “Mr. Blake will be very pleased.”

“Mr. Blake—!” She cut short her remark.

“Will there be anything else tonight, ma’am?”

“No, Carol. You may go home. Be sure and say hello to your parents for me, and take them some gingerbread.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” She turned to leave, but saw Seth in the open doorway. He put his finger to his lips, conspiratorily. Carol did like Mr. Blake so much. He was always teasing—like Adam, except grown up. She left and closed the door behind her.

Morgan, at the mirror, heard footsteps behind her. “I don’t need anything else—” She stopped when she felt his lips on the back of her neck, sending little shivers
throughout her body. She closed her eyes, but opened them quickly when he moved away.

She whirled toward him. “What are you doing here?”

Seth smiled lazily at her and stretched out on her bed, his big, handsome figure nearly dwarfing the lacy, crochet-covered bed. “I live here, too, remember?”

“I just hope
you
remember that this is not your room. And may I remind you that this is my ranch, not yours.”

“
Mi querida
, stop fighting me. I am looking forward to dinner. Roselle says you spent all day cooking, that you prepared a very special meal.” His eyes were teasing.

“I did not! I like to cook and today I wanted to, so I just made a few things.” She turned her face away, took a deep breath, and turned back. “Kindly get off my bed and out of my room.”

He moved his hips slightly, as if testing the bed. “Do you sleep well on it, or do you find it too large for one person?”

“Seth Colter! Get out of here!” She started toward him. Seth opened his arms to her and she backed away.

He sat up on the bed, feet over the side. “That another dress Theron bought for you?”

Morgan saw a slight frown crease his brow, and she felt momentarily triumphant. “Yes. Do you like it?” She bent over just slightly so her breasts swelled even more precariously over the top. “It’s strange that you are just now noticing this dress. Most men notice it immediately.”

The little imp is trying to make me jealous, Seth thought. He smiled at her. His eyes raked her body, devouring her. “When I look at you, my little wife, I see you as I always remember you—wearing nothing but your hair ribbon. So it takes me longer to notice your clothes.”

“You—”

“If you try to throw something, I will have to restrain you.” He held out his arm. “Let’s go to dinner.”

Seth sat across from Morgan. She refused to speak to him. They were into the second course, and Martin had left the room.

“Martin will know something is wrong if you keep your silence. He’ll think we’ve had a lovers’ quarrel.” He raised his voice. “Tell, me, Mrs. Colter, about your travels in San Francisco.”

She smiled up at him. “I met some very interesting people, some gentlemen.” She emphasized the title.

Seth was serious. “Do you remember a Charley Farrell?”

“That’s funny. I thought of Charley just tonight. Mr. Farrell is not a man one should think of too often. Theron and I did a lot of work for his wife. A pleasant woman, but the most atrocious taste imaginable.”

“What about Farrell? Did you know him?”

“More than I wanted to, I’m afraid. Theron rescued me several times from his greedy little hands. Finally he told Mr. Farrell that if he didn’t stop his attentions, we would not return. I think Theron also threatened to tell his wife. Charley was deathly afraid of her.” She sipped her wine. “Where did you meet him?”

Seth looked down at his plate. “Just over a beer once. I didn’t really know him.”

Morgan didn’t understand Seth’s sudden seriousness. If anyone should not be taken seriously, it was Charley Farrell.

Martin removed the last of the dishes.

“That was a feast,” said Seth. “It seemed I couldn’t get enough of everything.”

“Well, if anyone could, you did. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone eat as much as you did.”

He grinned at her. “I’m a growing boy. I need my strength.”

“Martin, we’ll have coffee in the courtyard—if that’s all right with you, Mr. Blake.”

They went outside and stood silent, listening to the New Mexico night sounds. There were coyotes near, howling. Seth walked to the little tiled pool. “It’s nice to be here with you, Morgan. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Gordon planned going away.”

Morgan hid her face. The thought had crossed her mind, too.

“Remember the days we spent in the canyon, below the Indian ruin?”

“No.”

He turned startled eyes toward her and then laughed. “Why don’t you come over here and let me kiss you?”

“Stop it, Seth, or I’ll go inside. All of that is over. We’re just … acquaintances now.”

“Good! Now that we’re acquaintances, we can become friends. And then we can become lovers.”

“Seth, you are impossible!”

“I hope you mean it’s impossible for us not to love one another. Did you ever ask yourself why you asked
me
to marry you, and not one of the other men at the Ferguson ball?”

“I heard you had a ranch in New Mexico.” She could hardly tell him she had liked his muscular thighs! She laughed.

Seth cocked his head and looked at her strangely. “Well, little one”—he walked toward her—“I think I’ll go to bed.” He put his hands on her shoulders and she drew back. He pulled her to him, their bodies close but not touching. Then he kissed her, lightly, on the cheek. “Goodnight, my wife.” He released her and was gone.

She stood staring at the place where he had been. He had no manners! He should have walked her to her own bedroom instead of leaving her standing alone in a darkened garden. Angrily, she mounted the stairs. His
door was closed and all was quiet in the big house. She pulled the pins from her hair and hastily removed her dress, carelessly tossing it over the back of a chair. She pulled a nightgown from the drawer, a thin muslin gown, almost transparent. In bed she tossed and turned, not even understanding the reason for her restlessness.

Seth smiled as he heard her movements. Oh, yes, sweet … you do remember the time in the canyon.

It wasn’t long after Morgan fell asleep that she began to dream. She was back with Jacques and he had one hand on her hair, a knife at her throat. The Indians were watching. Then she saw Seth, heard his voice, calm and patient. “I’m here, sweetheart. There’s no need to worry,
mi querida
.”

She woke up slowly, fighting the horror of the dream. Seth held her in his lap. Her arms encircled his neck and held him tightly to her. He spoke softly, using sweet words while caressing the back of her head. She cried softly.

“Do you want to tell me, little one?”

The story came pouring out in a torrent. She told him about Jacques, about the dream. Then she told of Joaquín’s treachery, of the search that night for Seth, and then about the note. She told about Madame Nicole and how, on the night of the sale, she had seen Seth in the mirror and heard a music box. She didn’t see the color drain from his face as he remembered the night before Christmas when he had smashed the little box.

Morgan sobbed out the story of her humiliation on the night of the auction. She told about her fondness for Theron. She told of that night when she had been so glad to see Seth, of how she’d prayed that he hadn’t died, even though she had thought it was a hopeless prayer. There were tears in Seth’s eyes. “I’m sorry, sweet one. I’m here, now, and I won’t leave you again.”

She was like a child. He cradled and rocked her. She needed his tenderness. And she desperately needed the release the tears brought. Gradually, her breathing quieted and he knew she was asleep. Gently, he put her in bed and pulled the quilt about her. She made a small sucking sound, like Adam. He kissed her cheek and the tears that remained in her eyelashes.

Reluctantly, he went to the door between their rooms. It was locked. Puzzled, he left the room through the door to the hallway. Out of curiosity, he tried the door again from his side. It opened.

Gordon
, he thought. Somehow Gordon had found out about them and had arranged that they be alone together in the house. Of course, it wouldn’t have been difficult to discover the truth, what with Morgan constantly shouting, “Seth Colter! You—!” It was music to his ears. If he guessed correctly, Gordon planned to stay away until he received word that Morgan and Seth were together again.

Adam had just raised his fist to bang on his mother’s door when a big hand turned the unreachable knob. He looked up to see his father, his finger to his lips. Adam quietly followed Seth into the room, stopping to look down on the sleeping woman.

Seth planted a soft kiss on the little pulse point below Morgan’s ear. She smiled in her sleep. Adam grinned up at his father and decided to imitate him. The boy’s mouth missed the mark, falling loudly and succulently on his mother’s ear. Instantly, Morgan’s eyes opened and her hand flew to her ear.

Adam and his father laughed together in conspiracy. “The two of you! I can’t even sleep peacefully!” She had to laugh. They were so much alike. “At least you should behave better than your son. He has the excuse of extreme youth.”

Seth’s grin broadened and Morgan could swear his chest puffed out at least another two inches.

“Why are you strutting about this morning?”

“That’s the first time you’ve ever admitted that he’s mine.”

She frowned. “Of course, he’s yours. Just look at him. I don’t guess two people could look more alike.”

Seth looked at his son adoringly. “I know, but I like to hear you say it anyway.”

“You’re worse than Lupita’s roosters. He
has
to be yours. You’re the only man I ever—” She hadn’t meant to say that. He had no right to know.

Seth sat down heavily beside her. “I’m the only man who’s ever made love to you?”

She looked away, absently watching Adam, who was pulling the lace trim from a pillowcase. “Yes,” she whispered.

He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her loudly and heartily on the mouth. “I know it shouldn’t matter, and I love you no matter what, but that makes me very happy. Son, before you destroy your mother’s bed linens, how about a piggyback ride downstairs?” Adam climbed on his father’s back and they stopped in the doorway. “Why don’t you stay there? I’ll give Adam to Roselle and I’ll come back and join you.”