The Enchanted Land Page 10

  “Oh, yes, Seth mentioned your father. What was his name? Maybe I knew him.”

  “Charles Wakefield. He had a ranch somewhere around Albuquerque, I believe.”

  Joaquín listened carefully. Seth was on watch, and Jake was on the other side of the wagons.

  “Charley Wakefield!” Frank nearly shouted, and then quieted his voice. “I knew your father—no wonder I liked you from the moment I saw you. Your father was a hell of a man. It really made me sad to hear he’d left us. Seems like a lot of the good ones die young.” He looked at Morgan with a puzzled expression. “I always wondered why Charley never married.”

  Morgan had never heard her father mentioned in favorable terms before, and she wanted to hear more. She stared at the fire. “Tell me what he was like.”

  “He was a good man and a hard worker. I didn’t know him until he’d been around for some time, but I heard he built up his ranch from practically nothing. It’d take a man a week to ride the borders of his land.” Frank smiled. “I worked as a hand for him some years ago. Charley wasn’t like most of those rich boys; he joined right in and worked alongside us. He could rope a steer with the best of ’em.” Frank stared at the fire in silence. Then he added, “Sure never heard him mention a wife or little girl, though.”

  “My mother took me back to Kentucky when I was very young.” Morgan’s response was stiff. It was difficult to feel kinship with a man who had made her marry and leave her home against her will.

  Frank sensed Morgan’s hostility and wondered about it. “You sure missed a lot by not living out here. This country’s got more excitement in one day than the East has in a year.”

  A bit later on that night, she slipped to the side of camp to sit on a rock and stare at the stars. Joaquín’s voice startled her.

  “There are no stars in the East like there are out here, are there?”

  “No, I guess not. But it seems a high price to pay for stars.”

  Joaquín smiled, his teeth white in the moonlight.

  “I was raised out here. To me the East is too unchanging. There is no surprise, no adventure.”

  “You have a ranch, too, like Seth’s?”

  Joaquín chuckled, and there was a tone of contempt in his voice. “I have a ranch, yes, but not like the Colter one. The Montoya ranch is several times larger than his, and it has been in my family for generations.”

  “Do you live there alone?”

  “No,” Joaquín answered, “I live with my sister, Lena.” When one of his riders had told him about Lena and Colter, he had wanted to kill her. All she had done was laugh at him. He had vowed then to avenge himself on Colter one day.

  “Tell me, Morgan, do you hate our West so much?” His voice had a slyness that Morgan missed.

  “Yes!” was her vehement answer. “I hate this dust and the constant danger and … and…” Her eyes involuntarily went to the west where she knew Seth was on watch.

  “And your husband?” Joaquín’s voice was very low.

  “Yes.” Her voice was resigned, and Joaquín realized that she was close to tears.

  “Morgan, I told you once that I was your friend. If you want to tell me anything—if you want a shoulder to cry on, I am here.”

  A tear rolled down Morgan’s cheek and then another. She sobbed into her hands. Joaquín waited. Her first words were almost inaudible. “I don’t know why he hates me. I wanted to be friends. I wanted to be like we were in Kentucky. We rode together and talked and laughed together. Then he kissed me.” She shivered as she remembered Seth’s kisses.

  “Sweet Morgan, I am your friend.” Joaquín’s hand caressed the back of her head, but he did not try to touch her beyond that. “Why did he ask you to marry him?”

  Morgan’s sobs shook her body even more. “He didn’t. I asked him to marry me. I didn’t want to. My father willed that all the money went to my uncle unless I married and lived in New Mexico for a year. I offered Seth money to marry me.” She continued crying softly and Joaquín sat back to digest this.

  This explains a lot, he thought. Yet, he knew that as soon as both of them got over their anger, they would realize that they cared for one another a great deal. Joaquín had seen the way Seth protected Morgan, and the way her eyes followed him around the camp. He smiled in the darkness, very glad to have heard what he had been told.

  “Not all men understand a woman’s gentler feelings. Some men only use women. I am afraid you have married a man who may be like that.” He changed his voice to a seductive tone. “I wish you had asked me to marry you. I would gladly have done so, without money. It would be a pleasure to be in the company of so beautiful a woman.” He raised her hand to his lips and looked into her tear-filled eyes.

  “I’m not beautiful, Joaquín,” she whispered.

  His smile was soft and knowing. “But you are, and someday you will know it. It would have given me great pleasure to show you how beautiful you are. I would like to dress you in satins and silks.”

  Morgan felt herself blush at Joaquín’s words.

  “Little Morgan, when you know you are beautiful, then you will be beautiful.”

  They sat together in silence awhile, thinking of different things. Then Joaquín said, “Let’s go back now before people start wondering where we are.” He took her arm and led her back to the wagon. “Goodnight, my fair princess,” he kissed her hand again. “Sleep well.”

  Joaquín left Morgan at her wagon and turned to be met by the hostile stares of Frank and Jake. He smiled and bowed toward them, then went to his own wagon.

  “Somebody ought to do something about that little dandy,” Jake muttered.

  “Yeah, and I know who ought to do it.” Frank looked toward where Seth was standing.

  Crossing the Cimarron River was a nightmare for Morgan. The area around the river was crawling with rattlesnakes. The men kept shooting at them to keep them away from the horses. By the end of the day, everyone was tense and exhausted.

  The next few days after crossing the river were just as tiring as the first days of the journey had been. At Middle Spring, Morgan had her first glimpse of tarantulas. She had not minded the rattlers as much as these huge, hairy spiders. Willow Bar was a welcome relief with its sand and willows.

  Another relief was that Morgan had almost become used to undressing in front of Seth. And their attitudes toward one another were softening. Several times she had caught him smiling at her, and she had found herself smiling happily back!

  Early one morning Seth rode ahead of the wagon train. “I’ll meet you at Rock Creek in two days with some fresh game,” he told Morgan as he packed his saddlebags.

  Both of them remembered the last time he had gone away. The memory brought tears to Morgan’s eyes, and she kept her head lowered so he couldn’t see.

  “What’s this, little one?” his tone was mocking, “Will you actually miss your husband?”

  She kept her eyes on the ground.

  He said quietly, “It seems you and I always say the wrong things to one another, doesn’t it? Let’s try to start over again, when I get back. All right?” He smiled at her and made her smile back. “Could you spare a kiss for a lone knight?”

  Before Morgan could think, she was in his arms. “Seth…” she whispered. His lips touched hers gently at first, and then they both felt the longing of the last weeks. Morgan drew him closer while kneading the muscles in his broad back and sides.

  “No, sweet, we’re going to go slowly this time. Both of us need time to learn to trust. I’ll see you again soon, and we can start all over.”

  He touched her cheek briefly and then leaped into the saddle and was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  THAT night Morgan lay in the wagon, half asleep, pictures of Seth floating through her mind.

  “Look here what I found. Ben.” A stranger was climbing into her wagon! She pulled the blanket close to her chin in fear. “Lotsa yella hair, too.”

  Another man appeared at the end of the wagon. “Bring
her out here, Joe.” His voice had a strange, rough quality.

  “Ah, let me get her now. She’s no good to us. Let me have her.” He was pleading.

  “You get out of here and let me see if she’s worth anything or not.” The first man left the wagon, and the second entered.

  “What are you doing here? What do you want?” Morgan’s voice shook with fear.

  “Nobody’s going to hurt you. Just get up and let me see you.” His voice gave Morgan chills. It was rough, but at the same time it was a sly voice, the voice of a person who could not be trusted. “Come on now, get up.”

  Morgan obeyed.

  “Now, I’ll just stand here, while you find a lantern and make some light in here.” Morgan was shaking as she found the lantern and the tinder box. If a snake could talk, she thought, its voice would sound like that.

  “Cat Man!” The voice came from outside the tent. “What we gonna do with these two?”

  Morgan jumped—a cat! Yes, that’s what his voice reminded her of.

  “I’ll be there in a minute. Just hold on and don’t bother me again.”

  Morgan heard low, throaty guffaws from the men outside the wagon. There seemed to be at least two others besides the creature in the wagon with her.

  Cat Man sat on the cot. “Now,” he said when she had the lantern lit, “let me look at you. Come close to me.”

  With her first glance at Cat Man, she let out an involuntary gasp. His face fit his voice. His eyes were an exaggerated almond shape, long and thin, and his nose was wide and flat. His mouth was small, thin-lipped, practically nonexistent. She almost expected to see long whiskers above his upper lip.

  Cat Man smiled at her, a knowing smile that made his eyes even more catlike. “Come here,” he repeated.

  Morgan inched slowly toward him. He seemed to enjoy her fear. When she was close to him, and while still holding her eyes with his own, one long, thin arm darted out and tore her nightgown from her.

  Morgan covered her body with her arms.

  “No.” His one word conveyed his meaning, and she dropped her arms, staring off to the side of the wagon.

  “Ah, yes, you’ll do. Nice. Get some clothes on and come outside.” He left the wagon.

  Without hesitation, Morgan did as she was told. She didn’t feel that Cat Man was usually disobeyed.

  “What happened to all that purty hair I seen? Did she cut it off?”

  “No, it’s still there. Now you two get them tied up, and then let’s get out of here.”

  “What about her? We gonna take her?” This was from another man.

  “Yeah. Now get busy!”

  Morgan saw the other two men, both rather tall but thin, pulling Jake and Joaquín from the side of the wagon.

  “What you goin’ to do with her?” Jake’s voice was angry. “Her husband’ll come after you. Don’t take her, she’s just a little girl.” One of the two men hit Jake across the head with the butt of his revolver.

  “No!” Morgan gasped and started toward the fallen Jake, but Cat Man’s grasp on her shoulder, his thin, steely fingers biting into her flesh, halted her.

  “He is a foolish old man. Now look at your other friend there. He’s more sensible.” She followed Cat Man’s slanted eyes to Joaquín, who was, as always, slightly smiling! He nodded his head faintly toward Cat Man. They seemed to understand one another.

  In that one second Morgan had an insight into Joaquín. She realized that his only friend was himself, and that he didn’t care any more about her than about the dirt under his feet. Her face must have betrayed her feelings, because his smile widened and he tipped his hat to her. She shivered. Any hope of being saved from these men was lost.

  “Did you go through all the wagons?”

  “Yeah,” said one of the men. “And there ain’t nothin’ here. Just some old furniture, no money or nothin’.”

  “Well, we’re not going away completely emptyhanded,” Cat Man stroked Morgan’s neck. When she pulled away from him, he let out a low, throaty sound.

  “Get her horse saddled, Ben, before this husband of hers returns.”

  Morgan wished more than anything in the world to see Seth riding in now, to get her away from this awful Cat Man and the two tall, thin men who came with him.

  “Get on the horse.”

  Morgan’s skirt caught under her leg as she straddled the horse, exposing a large expanse of calf.

  “Woowee, gonna like that!” Joe nudged Ben in the ribs as they leered at Morgan’s smooth leg. The party started away.

  “What happened?” Jake held his head in his hands and looked up to see the four riders go off into the moonlight. “I’ve got to go after them” he began.

  “Untie me first,” Joaquín’s voice floated up to Jake, and he stumbled toward the dark man and slowly untied the ropes binding his arms. Jake stumbled, still stunned from the heavy blow to his head.

  “Careful old man, you get too excited and we’ll never find anyone.” Joaquín put a helping hand under Jake’s elbow.

  Jake jerked from Joaquín’s grasp and straightened his aching body. “It’ll be a long time before I need help from the likes of you.”

  Joaquín watched, amused, as Jake painfully made his way to Frank’s body.

  “Well, you ain’t dead yet, so I guess you’re too mean to kill.” Jake’s voice showed his relief as he held Frank’s head in his arms. “You!” his voice held the contempt he felt for Joaquín, “help me get him back to the wagons.”

  As Jake cleaned Frank’s head wound and his own, Joaquín began gathering the horses that the bandits had dispersed.

  “What happened, Jake?” Frank moaned.

  “They took the little girl.”

  Frank started up from the cot. “I’ve got to go get her. You know what they’ll do to her?” His voice cracked with the effort of talking.

  Jake pushed him back down. “You couldn’t swat a fly, and I can’t see well enough anymore to go trackin’ them, and that heathen out there ain’t gonna help. So that leaves the boy.” To Jake, Seth would always remain a boy, the closest thing he had to a son. “I’m gonna go now and find him.”

  “Jake, you can’t go. Send Joaquín.”

  Jake spat on the wagon floor. “I wouldn’t trust him not to spend his time staring at the stars. No, this is a man’s job, and I’m sending a man I can trust—me. I’ll see you as soon as I can manage.”

  He turned and left the wagon, saddled one of the horses, and left the camp, his destination unknown.

  It took Jake all that night and into the next before he saw Seth’s campfire. He called into the camp before he entered. “Seth, it’s me, Jake. Are you there, Seth?”

  Jake was nearly exhausted and Seth helped him from his horse. “What’s wrong, Jake?” he demanded.

  “It’s Morgan,” he gasped out.“They took her.”

  “Morgan! What do you mean, old man? Who took her?” He grabbed Jake’s shoulders.

  “Three men, one they called Cat Man … looked and sounded like a cat, too. They came to rob us. Frank was on guard, but they knocked him out—bad wound, too. Then they got me and Joaquín. They took the little girl with them and headed due west.”

  “When? When did they leave?”

  “Last night about this time. I been lookin’ for you ever since. Frank was too bad hurt to go after her, and I figured my old bones wouldn’t hold up. So I came straight to you instead.”

  Seth began saddling his horse and packing his saddlebags.

  “There’s game strung up in that tree. Take it back with you. Then when Frank’s better, take the wagons and go on to the ranch. I’ll get Morgan, and then I’ll meet you at the ranch.” His voice was grim. As he straddled his horse, he looked into the horizon and then back to Jake. “I’ll get her, Jake, and they better not have hurt her.” His eyes were cold.

  He rode off toward the west and was soon out of sight. “I hope for their sakes that they haven’t hurt her,” Jake muttered before he turned back to the fire. H
e had been without sleep for thirty-six hours, and he collapsed onto the ground.

  Morgan had been on the horse for two days and two nights before they stopped and made camp. Until then, they had stopped for only brief periods to rest their horses. They had eaten pieces of dried beef while traveling. She had become proficient at sleeping on her horse. Cat Man held the reins while she slept.

  At first Morgan wasn’t even fully aware that they had stopped. She sat on her horse while the three men began to build a fire.

  “Gonna enjoy this night.” Joe motioned toward Morgan. “Sure am gonna have a good time.”

  Morgan, still on her horse, her head drooping with exhaustion, felt someone near her. “Get down,” Cat Man’s voice was low. Obediently, she moved one painfully aching leg across the saddle and slid to the ground. She saw a bedroll spread out by the small fire. Cat Man’s long finger extended in a gesture toward the blankets. Morgan stumbled toward the skimpy covers, dropped to her knees, and then lay down, so very grateful to be able to stretch out. She was asleep instantly.

  Voices woke her and she heard them through a haze, as if they were a long way off.

  “I seen her first! She’s mine!”

  “It don’t matter who seen her first. She’s mine, ’cause I got the gun out.” Morgan heard a click.

  “You ain’t gonna shoot me, ’cause I’m gonna shoot you first.”

  “You and who else?”

  “Stop it!” This was the cat voice that Morgan had grown to hate. “Nobody’s gonna have her. Now make something to eat.” His voice was calm and assured. Morgan had her eyes closed, but Cat Man must have walked out of the camp, because she heard the crackle of underbrush and rocks.

  There was silence around her, and she began to drift back into sleep. Then the whispering seemed louder than the arguing of a few moments ago.

  “It’ll take him a while out in the woods. If we’re quick, we can both get it done before he gets back, and he’ll never even know.”

  “What if she tells him?”