The Enchanted Land (6 page)

“No, Seth, I was angry before.” Her voice was pleading. “I want to be friends—no more.”

Seth smiled. “All right. I have a long time. I’ll wait. Why don’t you rest? Bessie could bring you a bath.”

“I’d love that.” As Seth turned to leave, Morgan said quietly, “Thank you for understanding, Seth.”

Morgan sat in the hot water for a long time. She tried not to think about the day, the long ride with Seth, how she had felt when Cynthia kissed him. Everything was moving too quickly! She lay back in the tub and thought about Trahern House.

Life had been so simple, so quiet and gentle there.
She had always done exactly as she pleased. Her days had been filled with riding, cooking, embroidery, and caring for her flowers. She had been very happy. There had been so few people in her life then. She had been left in peace.

She thought about Seth’s family. Nora was so kind, and always close to laughter. William was always easy to be with. And the sisters—it was funny how a person always thought of them together. They, too, were always smiling. Everyone seemed to enjoy life so much. Morgan slid deeper into the tub, thinking that if she ever did leave Trahern House, the Colter family would be pleasant to live with. But, of course, she never would leave Trahern House. What had made her think such a thing?

She was just finishing dressing when Seth came to the room to change for dinner. He nodded toward the tub, still full of water. “I should have come up earlier.”

Morgan smiled at him as she adjusted the tight knot of hair on her neck. Seth strode towards her, touched the knot, and said, “I like it better the other way. But at least this way you’re no temptation.”

Morgan swung around to meet his eyes, “Good! Now maybe you’ll not embarrass me in front of your family.”

After dinner, Seth disappeared to the library, and the rest of the family retired to the large drawing room. William read, smoking a large cigar. The three sisters asked Morgan if she’d like to help embroider Austine’s linens for her trousseau.

“Eleanor’s wedding dress is a light blue silk and Austine’s is a pink satin,” Jennifer chattered. “They are going to be married together, this summer. I wish you could stay for the wedding.”

“That would be nice, Morgan. You could be our matron of honor. It would be wonderful if you would stay. Do you think you could?” Austine looked at Morgan
expectantly, but Morgan sat quietly, unresponding, absorbed in her stitching.

“Morgan.” Nora’s voice was clear in the silence.

Morgan immediately looked up and realized what had happened. “I’m sorry, I guess I was thinking of something else.”

Nora turned to her husband. “William, do you know where Seth went?”

“He’s in the library, reading those old journals of his.” Then, as if taking the hint from his wife, he said, “Why don’t you go join him, daughter? I’m sure he’d like to show them to you. When he was a little boy, he used to read those by the hour. And he’d read them to anyone who’d listen, too.”

“I promised Austine and Eleanor I’d help with the linens.”

“Don’t be silly, Morgan. This is your honeymoon. Go spend the evening with your husband.” Nora’s eyes were dancing. She knew that Morgan could hardly say no to her suggestion.

“If I had just been married, I’d spend every minute with my husband.” Jennifer was always the romantic.

Morgan left the room, went down the hall, and quietly opened the door of the library. Seth was sitting in a large leather chair behind a massive, carved walnut desk. He was smoking a large cigar and seemed totally engrossed in an enormous book. Thinking he hadn’t heard her come in, she moved noiselessly to his side. His voice startled her.

“Look at this.” He pointed to a yellowed page with angular, faded handwriting.

We have waited eight days for the flood waters to recede. The sun is merciless. There are no trees for shade. Ahead of us lies nothing but flat grassland. There is much tension among us because of the Indians we have seen.

“Who wrote it?”

“I don’t know. When I was very young, my grandfather bought it from a Frenchman he met in Louisville. This is only the center section of the journal. As far as I can guess, and I’ve read it several times, this was one of the earliest American parties to try to make it to Santa Fe.”

“What happened to them?”

“I don’t know that either. But as far as I can gather, before Santa Fe gained independence from Spain, all Americans in Santa Fe were either killed or imprisoned.”

Morgan was quiet.

“Morgan, what we have ahead of us is not pleasant. The journey takes about three months, and we go through some rugged country. Sit over here, and I’ll read to you.”

They moved to a small leather couch beneath the shuttered window. A small fire burned in the fireplace to their left. Morgan curled up on one end of the couch and listened as Seth read. His deep voice was calming even as he read of the horrors of traveling on the Santa Fe Trail. He read of their joy at seeing the Cimarron Spring, of the lack of water in places, and of flooded rivers in others. Morgan tried to imagine herself experiencing these things, but could not do so. She lazily watched the fire and listened to Seth’s deep, resonant voice.

Seth stopped reading to look at his little wife. She was sleeping peacefully, her legs drawn up under the voluminous skirt. She looked about ten years old. Of course, he mused, she really wasn’t so very much older than that. He blew out the lamp and moved closer to her. In sleep, she nuzzled against his warm body. He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her even closer. Her head rested on his chest.

An hour later, when Nora came in to say goodnight,
that was how she found them. She watched the scene for a couple of minutes, feeling slightly guilty about intruding.

Morgan awoke at the sound of the door closing.

“Well, little girl, are you ready to go to bed?”

Morgan was embarrassed by her position and stood up quickly, hurrying toward their room. She undressed rapidly in the dressing room and was soon in bed.

Seth came up the stairs, after she was in bed, and undressed in the moonlit room. Morgan made herself look away as he removed his clothing. She shivered and then snuggled deeper under the covers. It’s only curiosity, she told herself. At last she fell asleep.

The sun was high when Morgan awoke the next morning. She stretched lazily. It had been good to sleep late. The last few days had been very wearing. Just six days ago she had been dressing for Cynthia’s ball.

She looked toward the foot of the bed and saw that Seth had gone. Immediately, she jumped out of bed, dressed, pulled her hair back, and ran downstairs to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Cook.”

“Morning! I’ve been up for four hours!”

“I’m just lazy. Where is everyone?”

“Who knows? Them gals are out pickin’ flowers, I reckon, and the Missus is in her room. Master and Mr. Seth rode out hours ago. You want some breakfast?”

“I’ll get it.” She paused. “You say Seth rode out? Do you know where?” She tried to sound nonchalant.

“I knowed you’d want to know. He’s got every other girl in the countryside after him, why not his own wife?”

Morgan decided it was best not to talk about Seth anymore, so she finished her breakfast as quickly as possible and left the kitchen.

She met Nora in the front hallway. “Seth is planning to take some good furniture back with him to Santa Fe.
He told me this morning that I was to let you pick out what you wanted.”

Morgan was very pleased by this, and she and Nora went upstairs to begin their search. The master bedroom was enormous, with oak paneling and oak floors. The bed was even larger than the one in Seth’s room, and the headboard was intricately carved.

“I couldn’t choose any furniture from these rooms.”

“Morgan, you may have anything in this house except William’s bed. I want you and Seth to have a good start in New Mexico.”

“Nora … you know about our arrangement. I will return after one year.”

As they left the master bedroom and continued down the hall, Nora said lightly, “Who knows? You may like New Mexico.”

Morgan smiled. “I may like New Mexico, but you don’t know how much I need Kentucky … and Trahern House.”

“A house and a piece of land are no replacement for love.”

“How is love involved?”

“I’ve watched you two, the way you tease and the way you laugh together. Friendship is the very best basis for a good love.”

Morgan considered this for a few minutes. “Yes, I think you are right. I believe I will love Seth at the end of a year.”

Nora stopped abruptly to turn to stare in triumph at Morgan.

“As a sister loves a brother,” Morgan added hastily, feeling she had won the joust.

Seth and William joined Nora and Morgan for lunch. The sisters had been invited to a neighbor’s, where they would probably stay till dinnertime.

“Well, did my little wife choose every piece of furniture in the house?”

Morgan did not like his patronizing tone at all. “The only thing I really wanted was the carved bed in the large bedroom at the head of the stairs.” She watched both Seth and his father as their eyes widened.

Seth nearly choked as he said, “But it would take an entire wagon just for that bed. And besides, that bed has always been in this house.”

Nora couldn’t help laughing. “Morgan’s only teasing, Seth.” She saw the two men relax. “And you deserve it, too, when you talk to your wife the way you do to Jennifer.”

Seth looked sheepish and returned to eating. William asked Morgan if she did find any furniture. Then, hesitantly at first, she talked of her idea about New Mexico, of her certainty that this beautiful furniture would not fit in there.

She gained courage as she saw Seth looking at her with respect. “That’s just what I told Mother and the girls when I first came back. I wanted to take some furniture back, but Chippendale does not fit into an adobe house.”

“Nora, did you show them the attic?” William addressed his wife.

“I had forgotten all about it. Morgan will love the furniture.”

After lunch, Seth returned to the fields with his father, while Nora and Morgan went back to their explorations.

A great deal of the furniture that had been in the Colter home before Nora came was stored in the attic. It had been made in America, and was much plainer than the Chippendale. Here were things that other people had stored in wagons as they came to the Kentucky wilderness. The prize was a sturdy bride’s chest with
birds and the year 1784 painted on it, all enclosed in a heart.

There were several sturdy oak tables with chairs to match. This was furniture that had been made with love, and although it was old, it was strong. It had been carried across the country before, and it would stand up to that again.

T
HERE
was one more day before they left. Morgan regretted leaving Seth’s family—they had been so kind. She was also afraid of the long trek across the country where she’d be alone with Seth. The day passed in a frenzy of packing and preparation for the trip.

After the noon meal, Jake arrived. He was a short, wiry man. Morgan judged him to be about sixty. Jake and Seth hugged one another in greeting.

“You little polecat! I can see by your size that you haven’t been eatin’ right. You get any littler, and I won’t be able to see you,” said the small man as Seth’s massive frame nearly smothered him. He grinned up at Seth with a nearly toothless grin.

“Well, Jake, I miss your cookin’. A few pieces of your shoeleather steaks and I’ll be near as big as you.”

They turned toward the house, their arms around one another. Then they saw Morgan. Seth seemed embarrassed, and stammered, “Jake, meet Morgan. She’s my … er … wife.”

Jake turned startled eyes to Seth, dropped his arm, and began to howl with laughter Seth stared at his feet. Morgan could not help smiling, infected by Jake’s laughter. With tears in his eyes he choked, “I told you, I knew it.” Then, sobering, “No offense, ma’am, we jist had us a little bet, and I reckon I won.” He offered his hand. “Glad to meet you.”

Jake turned out to be a born story-teller. He kept
everyone entertained during dinner. After dinner, the women went to the sitting room, and Jake and Seth’s father went to the library.

Seth took the opportunity to add a last-minute package to the loaded wagons. He put in a small music box that he intended to be a Christmas present to Morgan. He stood in the moonlight, wondering what would be between them at Christmastime. At last he returned to the house.

Jake had retired, and William and Seth were left alone. The two were close, and they had much to share. By ten o’clock they had drunk a great deal of brandy. They both rose to greet Nora, the girls, and Morgan as they came to say goodnight.

As the women turned to leave, Seth called, “Stay with us a little while, Morgan.”

Seth smiled, showing his dimples, and offered her a glass of brandy.

“A toast to my new daughter.” William’s smile was just as impish as his son’s.

The liquid was warming, making Morgan feel very relaxed.

“Seth, my son, I want to congratulate you on your choice of a wife.” William’s words were just slightly slurred.

Seth moved to the back of Morgan’s chair and began to knead the back of her neck with his fingertips, feeling the silky hair and the warmth of her scalp. Seth and William were talking, but she heard nothing, feeling only the warmth of the brandy and the touch of Seth’s hand. She leaned back and closed her eyes.

She was startled from her reverie by silence, and opened her eyes to find the men looking at her. Seth smiled. “I think you’re tired. Why don’t you go to bed?” His eyes were bright with liquor, and somehow Morgan found him very appealing.

She rose, silently, and went toward the door. She
heard William mutter under his breath, “I’d never let my new bride go to bed alone.” He added, “At least you can kiss her.”

Perhaps it was the unaccustomed liquor, but Morgan’s heart began to pound. Her hand was on the door-knob before she felt Seth’s hand on hers. The warmth of him, the size, and the smell of him made her tremble. He turned the knob and followed her out the door. They were in the empty moonlit hallway.

He touched her arm, and she turned. Very gently, his arm went around her waist while his other hand tipped her head up to face him. The moonlight made his hair silver, and the height and width of him made her seem small and delicate. His lips touched hers very gently, very softly. Morgan swayed against him, unthinking, now only feeling, wanting his warmth to touch her. Her arms went out, encircling his neck and drawing him closer to her. Her head was swimming, and she had no idea whether or not she was breathing.

His lips began to move over hers. Her lips parted as he began to be more demanding. They pulled one another closer and Seth leaned forward until Morgan’s back was bent into a bow shape. She heard herself moan as she felt Seth’s hips move slightly.

Seth lifted his head and looked at her with startled eyes—and with another expression Morgan did not recognize. Silently, he lifted her in his arms and carried her up the stairs to their bedroom. Morgan put her face into his neck, feeling the soft, warm flesh. He made her feel so safe, so protected. Nothing existed but Seth. She moved her face deeper into his neck, touching with her lips the tender spot where the neck joined the shoulder. She felt Seth’s breath quicken as he opened the door to their bedroom.

Closing it with his foot, he again turned to Morgan to kiss her. The kiss was searching, and she clung to him as he carefully laid her on the bed and stretched out
beside her. His hand caressed her hair, her shoulder, as it found its way to the buttons on her dress. He kissed her throat, and each area of flesh as it was exposed by the unfastened buttons. She felt Seth’s leg across her own.

Seth sat up on an elbow and looked at her in the firelight. His eyes were tender. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt and removed it. The hair on his chest was thick and curly, the skin such a delicate, golden brown. She stretched out a tentative finger and touched his shoulder. God! but he was beautiful. His arms made her think of the muscles on horses.

“Seth…” His kisses, his gentleness, made the idea of stopping him seem cruel.

“Don’t talk, my love, just enjoy,” he murmured.

“Seth, you have to stop … please don’t.” Her voice was barely a whisper. “Please…”

It was several minutes before Seth began to hear her. Her voice was so soft. As the sounds penetrated his senses, he began to feel anger rising in him. He did not know why. Abruptly, he dropped her onto the bed.

His jaw was clenched. “No, madam, I will not force you. I will not have a woman who says no to me.” He stood up and grabbed his shirt, angrily thrusting his arms into it. “There is a name for women like you—women who kiss a man like you kissed me in the hall, who allow a man to get worked up and then refuse him.” His eyes were very angry. “You’ve said no to me several times, but this will be the last time. I’ll not ask you again.”

Now it was Morgan’s turn to get angry. “I made you a business offer, nothing more. I made that clear from the beginning. I’ve not wanted your advances, so what right do you have to be angry with me? I have kept my part in our bargain.”

Seth’s face softened. His eyes, though, were still angry, his voice a harsh whisper. “You are right, you have
kept your part.” There was a look of sadness about him now. “As old as I am, I never learn—there are two kinds of women, my silly sisters and the calculating Cynthia. Somehow I thought you were different, but now I know just where you fit.” His voice lowered. “I will see that you get your beloved Trahern House, and I will bother you no more.”

Her hair was loose, her dress unbuttoned, showing the shadow of a breast. Abruptly, he turned and left the room.

Morgan stared at the door, tears gathering strength.

Nora was disturbed the next morning to see the coolness between Seth and Morgan. Jake noticed it too, but neither said anything.

Tearful goodbyes were said, and both Nora and William forced money on the reluctant Morgan.

At last Morgan sat on the wagon beside Jake, while Seth rode ahead on his horse. Jake talked incessantly about New Mexico, about Kansas City, about anything that came to his head. Morgan listened and bounced on the wagon seat, and watched Seth’s broad back. Morgan realized that no matter how big the horse was, Seth would probably make it look like a pony. “It would probably take a draft horse to look big in proportion,” she muttered.

“What was that?” Jake looked toward her.

“I was looking at Seth,” she answered, blushing.

Jake smiled, showing his three teeth, and began to talk about Seth. “Sure glad that boy got married. Tired of running that ranch myself while he keeps going into town for a woman.” Then it was his turn to be embarrassed, “Uh, sorry, Mrs., uh, Morgan.”

Morgan hadn’t thought about the possibility of another Cynthia waiting for him in New Mexico. “Jake, does Seth have a girl in New Mexico?”

“Well, there is one that seems to have set her cap for
him. A young lady whose father owns quite a bit of Santa Fe.” Jake looked at Morgan and grinned. “She’d fill out that big dress of yourn and half of another one like it. You sure are a mighty
little
thing.”

Jake was so natural that Morgan felt no resentment. “I guess Seth likes women like that—big, I mean.”

The smile vanished from his face. “I can’t say as he
likes
any women. He seems more to use them than anything. Oh, he’s nice to them, and they sure like him, but he never seems to think anything about any of them after he leaves them.” He paused. “Now me,” and his grin returned, “I’ve been in love so many times.” He laughed and slapped his thigh. “I remember a gal in Louisville once, had black hair and eyes. I was so in love with her that I couldn’t eat for three weeks. Thought I’d die without her.” He seemed to enjoy just thinking about the woman.

“What happened?” Morgan asked.

“Oh … she left me for some rich guy, but she’ll never forget me, that much I know.”

Morgan was quiet awhile.

“You don’t think Seth’s ever been in love?”

“Well, I used to work for his daddy, and I’ve been around Seth since he was about nine years old, and as far as I know, he ain’t never been in love. Too bad, too. You miss a lot in life when you don’t fall madly in love at least once a year.”

Morgan was quiet after that, just sitting, listening to Jake and watching Seth move to the rhythm of his horse.

The first days were easy. At night they stopped at local inns where a hot meal and warm, clean beds awaited them. Seth always made sure Morgan had her own room, while he and Jake had another.

Seth and Morgan stayed away from one another as much as possible, speaking only when necessary.

A few days before they reached Kansas City, Jake
began to tell Morgan about someone named Frank. Jake seemed to have a lot of respect for Frank and was glad Frank would be traveling with them.

“Will anyone else be going with us?”

It was a minute before she could understand Jake’s answer.

“Joaquín. What a nice name.”

Jake muttered something unintelligible.

Kansas City was much more rustic than Louisville, and Morgan liked it. The people all seemed to be dressed for necessity rather than for fashion.

“Seth!” A man as big as Seth came up behind him as Seth was tying his horse in front of the hotel. They shook hands vigorously, obviously glad to see one another. “And Jake, you little old toad, you’re still as ugly as ever.” His eyes stopped at Morgan.

Seth followed his eyes. “This is my wife, Morgan.” Seth’s voice held no warmth.

Frank reacted immediately to Seth’s voice. He knew something was wrong. Frank held out a tentative hand and helped Morgan from the wagon. “I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Colter.”

Morgan smiled, lighting up her face. “Jake has told me a lot about you—everything except your last name.”

He smiled back at Morgan. “It’s Greyson, but everyone calls me Frank.”

“If you call me Morgan, it’s a deal.”

Smiling, they started into the hotel. As they were signing in, Seth said to Morgan, “My shy little wife sometimes loses her shyness. Do you think she saves it just for her husband?”

Morgan was startled by the hostility in his voice, but before she could say anything, he had turned to talk to the hotel manager.

Jake had overheard Seth and whispered to Morgan,
“He’s jealous,” and then followed Frank up the stairs.

Seth turned back to Morgan, taking her arm and leading her away from the desk. “They have no adjoining rooms. In fact, they have only one room left in the hotel. I could bunk with Frank and Jake.”

Morgan’s eyes went to Seth’s. Somehow, she did not want everyone knowing the truth about her relationship with Seth. She would rather people thought theirs was a normal marriage.

Seth was talking. “Jake already knows. But if you’d rather Frank didn’t, just say so and I’ll arrange something.”

Morgan lowered her eyes. “I’d rather he didn’t know.” Maybe it was her imagination, but she thought she saw relief on Seth’s face.

Seth escorted her to a small but clean room with one rather narrow bed which took up most of the space.

Morgan sat on the bed, as there was nowhere else to sit. She watched Seth. He ignored her and began to undress.

“Seth, what are you doing?”

“I am planning to wash some of this trail dust off me before dinner.” He turned toward her. “You don’t have to watch if you don’t want to, you know.”

She moved to the other side of the bed and looked out at the busy street, but she had difficulty concentrating.

He had hardly spoken to her since the last night at his parents’ house. She tried to picture Trahern House, but saw only Seth’s angry eyes. She heard Nora’s voice saying that Morgan would fall in love with Seth.

“Morgan?”

She turned. Seth was standing so close to her. She felt like crying. Unwanted tears gathered in her eyes.

Seth dropped to his knees beside her. She was such a child. “What’s the matter, little one? If you don’t want me to stay here, I won’t. I’ll find someplace else.”

His voice was so gentle… She
couldn’t
be in love
with him! She’d known him less than a month. Why was Seth’s image so clear, and the image of Trahern House so blurred?

The tears started, and she couldn’t stop them. She turned and buried her head in the pillow and began to let out the tears that had been locked inside for so long.

Seth knelt by the bed. After one puzzled look, he lifted Morgan into his arms and sat on the bed, leaning back against the headboard. He just held her and stroked her hair while she cried. After a while, as the sobs began to subside, Morgan began to hear Seth’s voice.

“Shh,
mi querida
, be still. You are safe. No one will harm you. I won’t bother you again. You have nothing to fear.”