The Enchanted Land (37 page)

Morgan rubbed her mouth, then her ear. “I already have had two bruising kisses this morning. I certainly don’t need any more.”

“Maybe on second thought, I’ll just push Adam out the door. He can yell all he wants—we’ll never hear him.” He closed the door quickly, as the pillow hit the door. Adam kicked his father in the ribs, laughing with gusto. He liked this man because exciting things always happened around him, like his mother throwing a pillow at them. She never did those things around other grown-ups. “Horse. Horse,” he screamed.

At breakfast, Seth suggested that Morgan bring Adam to the river for a picnic lunch. He’d try to get away to join them.

“Well, it may be difficult. I have a lot to do.” He was taking too much for granted.

“What is so urgent?”

He sounded as if she spent her days lounging in bed. Her voice was hostile. “This is September, so I have a lot of food to put up for the winter. And there’s the household accounts, and…”

Seth looked down, contrite. “I just thought Adam might need a change of pace today.”

Morgan turned away. “If I can get away, maybe we can go.”

“Good!” She knew his pain had been an act. He kissed her cheek. “Have a good day, wife.”

“Stop calling me that. Someone may hear.”

He smiled at her. “I hope so, wife.”

“Wife.” Adam imitated his father.

“Oh, no. You’re going to have the strangest vocabulary when Gordon returns.”

“Gord?” Adam questioned.

They laughed together at their son.

Adam spent the morning playing with his ranch. The men of the ranch had spent some of their evenings carving new pieces. Now it was too big to carry inside at night. Seth had built a canopy over it, to protect it from the rain.

Morgan paid special attention to the cleaning of Seth’s room and then spent two hours working with Roselle on a delicious picnic lunch.

When everything was ready, she and Adam went to their special place near the river. Seth was not there, so she spread the quilt and sat down with Adam. She recited nursery rhymes to him, illustrating them on the slate board she often packed.

“How’re my wife and son?” He looked at Morgan innocently when she frowned at him. He was becoming far too possessive. Morgan immediately opened the picnic basket.

“
Brioches!
Morgan, you don’t know how often I
used to think about these little rolls. In California, I ate some of the worst food imaginable. Jessy cooked for me for a while. I don’t know how I survived it. Jessy would take a skillet and throw in some eggs with a generous helping of eggshells.” He demonstrated with hand gestures. “When some of the eggs were still mostly raw and some were so hard you couldn’t tell them from the skillet, she’d serve them to you. Now don’t ask me by what magic Jessy was able to use one skillet and get the eggs to come out at opposite degrees of doneness. I was always too smart to ask.”

Morgan was laughing helplessly.

“Wait, I haven’t told you about the biscuits. They were so chewy that you put your fingers between your teeth, like this, and stretched them as long as your arm could reach. Now, explain that. No one dared ask about those biscuits. They were such a marvel that we rather looked forward to them.”

Morgan held her stomach as she laughed. She could just imagine Jessy making biscuits like that. She’d had a taste or two of Jessy’s cooking. She’d love to send a recipe for those biscuits to Jean-Paul.

As Morgan laughed, Adam held his slate to his father and said, “Horse.”

Seth wrote on the slate:
Seth loves Morgan with all his heart
. He handed the slate to her. She looked into his eyes and saw that what he wrote was true. She wiped the laughter tears from her eyes, erased the slate, and drew Adam’s horse.

“I have to get back to work now. Kiss me goodbye? On the cheek?”

She laughed at him for playing the same tricks as Adam did when he wanted something. “All right, I’ll kiss your cheek.” She stood up and leaned toward him, and as they both knew they would, they clung to one another. When their lips met, there was no resistance from Morgan.

“You won’t forget me?” He smiled down into her half-
closed eyes. He turned to Adam. “A hug for your daddy, son?” Adam ran to his father’s arms and Seth tossed the boy into the air and then rubbed the stubble of his whiskers in Adam’s neck. The child screamed with delight. Seth left them both, waving.

When they returned to the house, Adam took his nap and Morgan undressed and lay on her bed. When had she realized she still loved Seth? Maybe when she’d seen the slate and knew he could be trusted completely. Yes, this time he could be believed and trusted.

What about what he had done, that horrible night in San Francisco? Somehow, the memory wasn’t so clear anymore. Now there were memories of Seth playing with Adam, Seth comforting her after a bad dream. She didn’t know if he had changed, if maybe some little thing might still set him into a jealous rage. She didn’t care.

She would let the future take care of itself. She had him near her, and that’s where she wanted him to stay. If he wanted her, then she was his.

Dinner was pleasant and Morgan relaxed and enjoyed the freedom that admitting her love for Seth had bestowed on her.

Afterward, they drank
café au lait
in the courtyard. Seth sat on a stone bench and put his arm across the back. Morgan watched him closely, hoping he’d ask her to join him. It seemed that for weeks she had fought his aggression, and now he left her alone! He finally patted the seat beside him and looked at her questioningly. She tried to keep calm, to walk toward him sedately and not run into his arms.

They sat quietly together. Morgan realized she felt safe, at home here beside Seth. She had never felt that way in San Francisco or even on the Colter ranch. For some reason she thought of Jake, of the way he had
been so angry with her for always eating. She laughed.

“Share it with me?”

“What?”

“What were you thinking about that made you laugh?”

“Jake and the way he used to get so mad at me.”

“Why would Jake ever get mad at you? I wrote them all when I came here, so they’d know I was still alive. I’m afraid I didn’t tell anyone where I was when I was in California. But tell me, what made Jake mad? Maybe that you’d even speak to me after the way I acted at Montoya’s party? I guess he knew we’d … ah … spoken.” His eyes twinkled.

“That was part of the problem. You see, when I was carrying Adam, I ate.”

“I don’t understand. How could Jake be upset about that?”

“When I say I ate, I mean I ate
constantly
, for six months. I ate anything Lupita cooked.”

Seth laughed softly. “I’ve been doing that for years.”

“That’s what I mean. I ate as much as you and it made me the same size as you.”

Seth smiled in disbelief.

“You remember how Lupita’s cottons always swallowed me? By the time Adam was born, they barely stretched across my body.”

“But Lupita’s twice as big as you are! I would have liked to see that. I’ll bet you looked like a little barrel.” He smiled down at her. “You seem to have lost all that weight.”

Morgan’s heart beat faster as she looked up into his eyes. He’d kiss her now, and she wanted him to.

“I think it’s time to go to bed.”

She took his arm, feeling the muscles under the smooth fabric. Her heart was pounding and her ears rang. He stopped with her outside her bedroom door and leaned down, his lips very close to hers. She closed
her eyes and then opened them instantly when she felt his kiss on her cheek. She frowned.

“Goodnight,
mi querida
.” He was gone, into his own bedroom, the door closed.

She undressed angrily and flounced about the room before finally going to sleep.

Seth had misinterpreted her frown. He decided to go slower with her. She probably still needed time to learn to trust him.

W
HEN
Morgan woke, the house was quiet. As she stretched her arm across the bed, she looked up in alarm, then lay down again, quietly. Adam was with his father again. She turned over on her back and then yawned, stretching luxuriously. It was good to admit she loved Seth. For the first time in a long while, she was at peace. Who knew what could happen now?

She tossed the covers aside and bounded out of bed. She looked at herself critically in the mirror. She brushed her hair just slightly, pulling a few curls close to her face. She nodded at her reflection, then giggled. “Why, Morgan Colter, you are becoming positively vain.”

In the hall, she saw that both Adam’s and Seth’s doors were closed. She took a deep breath to calm her shaking body. What if he didn’t want her anymore? He could have decided that she wasn’t worth all the effort. As she lifted her shaking hand to knock lightly on the door, she reminded herself of all the times Seth had chided her for her lack of self-confidence. She could ride a horse and she could cook, but it still always startled her when men stared at her.

There was no answer from within, so she silently opened the door and tiptoed to Seth’s bedside. He had thrown the sheet back from his body, exposing his full, broad chest. Lightly, she touched the hair at his temples. His eyes flew open and she stared into them, losing herself in the depth of feeling she saw there. Without
a word between them, he held out his arms and she went to him.

For a moment they just held one another. Morgan felt she’d come home: the arms were safe. Here at last was peace. Her restful state of mind left her as Seth began kissing her hair, her eyes, nibbling on her ears. She had had enough quiet.

“I love you so much.” His soft breath made chills on her legs and down her spine. “I’ve tried to be patient, but it’s not easy. I want you. I need you. Can’t you tell me you have a little feeling for me? I know I did a terrible thing, but can’t you find forgiveness in your heart?”

There were too many questions to answer. Her mind was leaving her, her body taking control. Seth’s lips were on her, his body touching hers. She wanted to tear the gown from her body, wanted her flesh to touch his. “Yes,” she murmured.

“Yes, what?” He was kissing her neck—not just kissing it, but making love to it as if it were the only part of her body.

“Yes, I forgive you.”

He pulled her from him and held her at arm’s length. “You forgive me?”

“Yes, I do. I may regret it, but it seems I do forgive you for all the horrible things you’ve done.”

“Horrible! I’ll show you who’s horrible.” He pulled her close beside him, and he began tickling her, and rubbing the morning stubble of his beard against her neck and cheek. She laughed hilariously, enjoying the familiar play of Seth’s love. But something was wrong. A second sense told her there was reason for alarm. The warning grew louder and louder in her mind, screaming over her laughter, her joy at holding Seth in her arms once again.
Adam!
Where was Adam?

“Seth.” She began to push him away. The alarm blocked out all passion. “Seth! Where’s Adam?”

“He’s probably still asleep,” he whispered into her ear. His hand was on her body, stroking the soft curve of her hip.

“No. Adam never sleeps late, at least not in his own room. I have to go see. Something’s wrong.”

Seth drew back and stared down into her face. He saw the concern, the fear. He started to tell her how silly she was, but he stopped. He’d have the rest of his life to talk about Adam. Right now she needed reassurance. “Well, go then. And then you can come back here. Better yet, I’ll go with you and then I’ll make sure you come back with me.” He held her close to him as they went to Adam’s room. “I don’t plan to let you out of my room for at least two weeks. Adam can pound on the door for hours, but I need you more than he does. See,” they stood in the child’s doorway, “he looks like a little cherub.”

Morgan frowned. Adam was too peaceful. Something was wrong. Every morning Carol had to remake Adam’s bed from the sheets up because he tore everything off during the night. This morning the light quilt was still tucked in, not in its usual place on the floor. Quickly, she crossed the room and smoothed his hair from his forehead. His face was hot, very hot.

Her face drained of color and she turned to Seth. Instantly, he was beside his son, his large hands holding the boy’s head. His neck was swollen and his skin was almost burning. Adam whimpered at his father’s touch. Seth’s face held the same look as Morgan’s. “I’ll get the doctor.” His voice was harsh, reflecting a depth of fear he’d never known before.

Minutes later, Morgan heard him running down the stairs, and then there were the sounds of a horse’s hooves.

Morgan was numb. She dropped to her knees and took her son’s little hand. It was so dry and so very, very hot. Adam had never been sick. He couldn’t be
sick. He was too little to bear pain. “Adam, sweetheart,” she whispered as she held the listless little hand to her cheek.

Adam’s eyelids fluttered. “Mama.” His voice was rough, barely audible. He swallowed and his eyes screwed up tightly as he tried to stand the pain.

“I’m here, baby. Mama’s right here and Daddy’s gone for the doctor. When he gets here, he’ll make you well. You’ll feel better then. The doctor will make it all stop hurting.”

“Mrs. Colter!” Roselle entered the room. “I heard Mr. Blake running down the stairs. Is everything all right?” She stopped when she saw Morgan’s face. Never had she seen such bleakness, such despair. She looked at Adam, too quiet, his mother holding his hand. “Adam!” She touched his burning little forehead and her eyes drooped.

Once before, this had happened. She was reliving that time. Her little girl had been like Adam, and about his age, too. Sarah, her sweet, always-active little girl. One morning she’d found her in her bed, so quiet and so hot. In less than a week, she’d died. She’d never really gotten over Sarah, or the pain of washing and dressing that sweet little body for the final time. Please, dear God, don’t let it all happen again.

“What can I do?” Morgan’s eyes implored the older woman.

Roselle tried to control her rising hysteria. “Did Mr. Blake go for the doctor?”

“Seth. He’s not Mr. Blake, he’s Seth Colter, Adam’s daddy.” She stroked Adam’s hand and arm.

“I thought so.” Roselle had to calm herself and calm Morgan. She left the room and returned with a dress and underclothes. She lifted Morgan from her knees and began dressing her, as if she were a child. She kept up a steady stream of talk. “It’s probably just one of those childhood things, the things children always get. I’m sure he’ll be well in no time at all.”

“Adam’s never sick. He’s never even had a bad cold.”

“Well, then, it’s time he had one.” Roselle tried not to let the fear into her voice.

“He’s so still. Why isn’t he yelling, ‘Eat, eat,’ like he always does? Adam.” She fell to her knees again. “Mommy will get you some chicken. Would you like some chicken? Or cookies? Would Mommy’s baby like some cookies?”

Adam made a great effort to open his eyes. Morgan gasped at the pain she saw in them.

Roselle put her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, forcefully lifting her. “Please, Mrs. Colter, sit here.” She pulled a chair close to the bed. “Adam doesn’t want to eat now. Just wait until the doctor comes. He’ll know what to do.” She started toward the door. “I’ll send Carol up with some breakfast for you.”

When Morgan was alone, she felt the full fear rising in her throat, threatening to choke her. For some reason, Roselle’s statement that Adam didn’t want to eat was more frightening than his extraordinary quiet or even his fever-ridden little body. Adam always ate. He was born hungry and his little life was controlled by food. His first word had been “Eat!” It had not been a quiet attempt at the word, but one day it had just exploded from his lips in a demand. She remembered how she and Jake, Lupita and Paul, had all laughed. Adam had ignored them. He had demanded food and he expected it to be served to him.

Adam didn’t want to eat. The words repeated themselves over and over in her brain. His face was flushed, the fever making his cheeks a vivid red. That couldn’t be Adam, she thought. Adam was always a blur of motion. He’s playing a game, to make me bake him some cookies. Yes, that’s what he wants. I’ll bake him thousands of cookies, but I can’t go to the kitchen now because I must be here when he opens his eyes.

She stroked his forehead. It was so dry. Adam was
usually wet. He sweat all the time, just like his father. He played hard, running and laughing so much that perspiration often soaked his hair.

“When you get over your bad cold, Adam, Mommy will bake you some cookies, and some little cakes with lots of icing. We’ll write ‘Adam’ on them and ‘horse’ and ‘eat’ … and we’ll draw pictures.”

Adam opened his eyes and stared at his mother in bewilderment. He didn’t understand what was happening to him. In his whole life, the only pain he’d experienced was scraped knees and skinned elbows. When those things had happened, he’d gone to his mother and her kisses had made the hurt stop. Now his mother was here and the pain didn’t go away. He didn’t understand, not at all.

Morgan didn’t know how long she sat there. She was vaguely aware of Roselle and Carol entering and leaving the room. A few times she heard someone telling her to eat. The lump was still in her throat and she knew she could swallow nothing. Didn’t they understand that if her baby couldn’t eat, then neither could she?

She heard voices outside the door and recognized Seth’s. He’d have the doctor. She felt relief flood her body. “The doctor’s here, baby. He’ll make you well. He’ll make the pain go away.”

She ran to meet Seth. “Where’s the doctor?”

“He’s coming. Is he any better?”

“No, Seth. He’s so hot. So hot, and he’s so little.”

Seth held his wife’s hand. It was cold. They went together to Adam’s bed. Seth’s fears mounted. In the few hours since he’d been gone, Adam looked as if he’d shrunk. His entire face was red, splattered with ghostly white splotches.

“This is Dr. Larson, Morgan, and this is Mrs. Colter.”

“Our son, doctor! He’s so little and he hurts. He’s never been sick before.”

Seth took her arm, quieting her. He noticed she’d said “our son.” He was glad she was ready to admit their relationship because, in his haste, he had given the doctor his real name.

“I’ll do what I can, Mrs. Colter.”

The doctor, an older, corpulent man, pulled back the covers and began to examine Adam. As he pulled up Adam’s nightshirt, Morgan gasped at the redness. Seth’s grip on her arm tightened.

“I think this is the culprit.” He turned Adam’s leg to show a bump, large and inflamed, on the calf of his left leg. “It seems to be some kind of insect bite.”

“Some kind?
What
kind? What kind of insect bite?!”

“That, Mrs. Colter, I don’t know. I’ve seen a couple of these cases, but not many. A lot of people think it’s some kind of tick bite, but no one knows for sure.”

Morgan sighed. It didn’t matter what the cause was, just the cure. “What do we do now? How do we make him well?”

“There’s not much I know to do, really. If the boy’s healthy, he’ll fight it off. But if not, then you ought to prepare yourself.”

She smiled at the doctor. Her hearing wasn’t working at all. Through the mist, she heard Seth’s voice.

“There’s absolutely nothing we can do?”

“Try to get some liquids down him. And pray. That’s all anyone can do. He’ll probably have diarrhea soon, and he’ll need to replenish the water he loses.”

The fog was beginning to clear. What did he mean, “prepare yourself”? The doctor was leaving. She pulled away from Seth. “You can’t leave! My baby is sick. He needs you! You have to help him.”

The doctor’s eyes were sad. He looked up at Seth as the big man took his wife’s shoulders in his hands. At
Seth’s silent nod, he left the room. God! he thought, there were times when he hated his job.

Her voice was high, rising higher. “He can’t do anything? My baby is sick and he can’t do anything? He says to prepare myself.”

Seth’s fingers bit into her shoulders. “Listen to me. Adam is sick, very sick. He needs you. You can’t indulge yourself in hysterics now. Do you hear me? Adam needs you.”

“Yes.” Her chin came up. “Adam needs me.”

“Now the doctor said to try to get some liquids into him, and that’s what we’re going to do. Adam knows you best of all and he trusts you. You’ll feed him.”

“Feed him, yes.”

“I’m going to the kitchen to tell Roselle, and when I come back, I want you in that chair and quiet. Adam needs his mother now, not some crazy woman tearing her hair. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Adam needs his mother.”

Morgan sat obediently by Adam’s bedside. Carol entered. “I’m sure he’ll be all right, Mrs. Colter. My little brother has fevers all the time, but he always gets well.”

Morgan tried to smile at the girl.

Seth returned carrying a steaming bowl of beef broth. “I’ll hold him up while you feed him.”

Adam’s eyes hardly fluttered when Seth lifted him. Seth was shocked by the incredible heat emanating from the child’s body. He felt so fragile in Seth’s arms. He opened his eyes when the warm spoon touched his lips. He swallowed and then his eyes screwed together in pain as the liquid went down his throat. He moaned in agony. He turned away from the spoon his mother held and looked at her in question. Why did she want to cause him pain?

“It hurts him, Seth. He can’t eat it.”

“Try again.” Adam kept his lips sealed, refusing
more of the broth. Seth lowered him. “We’ll try again later.”

Carol came into the room carrying clean towels and a basin of warm water. She also held diapers. Seth stared at the diapers. Adam hadn’t worn them in months.

His mother and father bathed the fevered child and changed his gown. Then they sat down to wait. There was nothing else to do.

The house was silent. No one made any loud noises. Morgan bathed her son’s face continually. Roselle brought food, but neither parent touched it. They watched their son, locked together in one purpose.