The Enchanted Land Page 9

  “At the stream.” Seth ran down the path toward the stream as Jake watched. Jake had never seen such a look on Seth’s face. “That young ’un has finally fallen in love,” he muttered and grinned. Then his smile changed to a frown. “God, I hope that Montoya isn’t up to some of his tricks with that little girl.”

  As Joaquín was telling Morgan that she could be beautiful, he put his fingertips under her chin, lifting her lips to his, and bent his head to hers.

  Seth entered the clearing just as Joaquín kissed Morgan. It took a second for him to take in the scene. He turned and left.

  Morgan turned to see Seth’s broad back retreating into the woods. She forgot Joaquín.

  “Seth!” She was surprised when he did not respond. She gathered up her long skirts and ran after him. Again he did not turn when she called. She caught up to him, grabbed his arm and planted herself in front of him.

  For a second Seth nearly grabbed her to him. Then he jerked his arm from her grasp and angrily started down the path.

  Morgan did not see Joaquín looking on with an amused smile.

  “Seth! What’s wrong with you?”

  He turned toward her with a look of hate. His voice was low as if he were controlling a great rage. “What’s wrong with me! I rode for two nights to be here with you and what do I see?” He jerked his head toward the stream. He paused and took a deep breath. His outward anger seemed to recede, but his eyes still blazed.

  “I am sorry. It is my fault. I should have expected nothing. You offered nothing more than any other woman.” He extended a hand and cupped her breast, hidden under so much fabric. He was momentarily surprised at its fullness.

  She inhaled quickly and jerked back from his touch.

  “Isn’t that what you want, my dear, if not from me then from your handsome friend back there? It’s such a shame that I found you out—you are such an accomplished actress. You almost had me believing in your innocence.”

  He turned and left her then. Morgan was totally bewildered. An actress? She remembered how she had run to him, eager for him. And then she remembered Joaquín’s kiss. Was that what had made him so angry? She must go to Seth, reassure him that Joaquín meant nothing to her.

  Seth was unsaddling his horse.

  “Seth…” her voice was gentle, “let me talk to you.”

  “We have nothing to say to one another.”

  “No, Seth. I realize why you are angry. You saw Joaquín and me, didn’t you?” Her voice had a pleading note. “It meant nothing, Seth. Not like when you kiss me.”

  He turned to her, his lips snarling, his eyes cold. “As I have said before, I have no chains on you. You may kiss whomever you wish. As for comparing my kisses to Joaquín’s, that is the trick of a whore.” His laugh was ugly. “Stay away from me. I want no more part in any of your games.”

  Chapter Six

  “JAKE, what’s a whore?”

  Jake nearly dropped the skillet of bacon. “What…?” he stammered.

  “I’ve heard the word before, and I wondered what it meant.” It had been two days since Seth had called her that. Having lived alone with her mother and then in the very sheltered company of her Aunt Lacey and Uncle Horace, she had never before been exposed to such talk.

  “Well … it’s a woman who gives her … uh … favors to a lot of men,” was Jake’s embarrassed reply. “Why’d you want to ask me that?”

  Morgan couldn’t tell him about Seth’s remark. “I just heard it somewhere and wondered.” She sat by the fire mending a tear in Seth’s shirt. She had seen very little of him in the last two days. He and Frank had spent a lot of time fishing for catfish, and Morgan had begun to gather buffalo chips for the fire. There were no more trees now, only the plains. Morgan found the countryside ugly and hoped New Mexico wasn’t as flat or as barren as the prairie was.

  The next day they crossed Turkey Creek. Morgan watched as Seth removed his shirt and struggled with the horses to get them up the steep, muddy bank. She was fascinated by the magnificence of his enormous body. She remembered his arms around her, the way he had so easily lifted her and spun her around. She trembled, remembering.

  That afternoon the rain started. It came down so hard that Jake could hardly see to drive the horses. Morgan sat on the wagon seat, drenched.

  “Get inside the wagon, you little fool!” Seth’s shout could hardly be heard. Water dripped down his hat and across his poncho.

  “No!”

  He lunged at her, and she quickly went through the opening into the dry wagon. She could see drops of water that had formed on the underside of the canvas.

  Now that she was inside the wagon, she was very glad that Seth had made her come in. She removed the big dress and dried herself. It felt good to rub her skin until it glowed. She looked for something warm to put on and found a robe of Seth’s in the bottom of a trunk. The robe was enormous on her but very soft and warm. She stretched out on the narrow wagon cot and was soon asleep.

  Voices awakened her. It was night, and the wagon had stopped rolling but the rain was coming down as hard as ever. She heard Seth’s voice shouting, very close to the mouth of the wagon. The end of the wagon canvas was opened and Seth climbed inside.

  “Get up, wife, and perform some of your wifely duties.” His voice had a leer in it.

  She hurried to obey, nearly tripping on the long robe as she did so.

  “What do you have on?” he demanded.

  “It’s your robe. I hope you don’t mind, but it was cold.”

  He looked at her, his blue eyes clear in the lantern light. “Help me out of these wet clothes. I’m so tired I’m not sure I could get them off by myself.”

  She was glad to be near him, glad to have him speaking to her again. As she removed his boots and then his wet socks, she kept asking herself where her pride was.

  She dried his feet briskly, massaging the toes until some warmth returned to them. She unbuttoned his shirt.

  Seth leaned back on his hands and suffered her ministrations as if he were a small boy. The front of the robe gaped open and he saw the rounding and the cleavage of her breasts. Her hair fell now, cascading around her shoulders and down her back. It glowed in the dim light.

  As she finished unbuttoning his shirt, she put her arms around his waist so she could pull the shirt free of his pants. He looked down at the top of her head.

  When she had removed his shirt, she began rubbing him with the towel, briskly so that he was warmed by the action.

  Morgan was trying not to think of what she was doing, trying not to look at Seth’s massive arms and the mass of dark gold, curly hair on his chest. She rubbed the towel over his hard, flat, stomach muscles and on his back.

  As she finished, Seth began unbuckling his belt to remove his pants.

  “Seth,” she said hesitantly.

  He grinned at her, knowing what she was about to say. “All right.” He took the towel from her.

  Morgan sat on the bed as Seth removed his pants and began to dry off. His back was to her, and she tried not to look, but his body was beautiful, like the Greek statues of athletes she had seen in a Louisville museum. But Seth was about twice the size of the statues.

  As she looked him over, he turned toward her, and she found herself staring at his manhood, something she had never seen before. She quickly looked away.

  “My innocent little bride is quickly losing her innocence. Since you’ve told me whose kisses you like better, tell me—whose body do you like better?”

  She had always tried to be friends with him. A few days ago she had thought maybe she could be in love with him. Now, because of one silly, accidental little kiss, he taunted her cruelly. All right, she could hate too.

  “I like a gentleman better than an animal who can’t even be civil,” she spat.

  “Well, the little girl drops her cloak of shyness. Tell me, miss, is there twenty-five thousand dollars to be collected for this marriage, or is that just another one of your stories? Possibly it was a
ploy to get me to give a name to someone else’s bastard?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  “It seems to me that ever since I met you, you have been teasing me, leading me slowly to your bed. You profess innocence, yet your kisses have a passion that belies innocence. It just occurred to me that maybe you are carrying a child, and that this little whore’s game of yours is a way to convince me that I am the father.”

  Morgan listened in total astonishment. She said softly, “You have been around women like that too long. I will tell you this again, and if you do not believe me, then I cannot help it. I asked you to marry me so I could collect my inheritance, and for no other reason. I kissed you with such passion because, for a while, I thought I could love you. I am sorry I was such a fool. At the end of this year you will get your twenty-five thousand dollars, and I never want to see you again. Until that time, I suggest we stay away from one another as much as possible.” She turned from him.

  “You are right. I don’t believe you. I think there is another reason why you trapped me into marrying you.” He took a step toward her, a towel about his hips. He grabbed her hair in his hand and jerked her head back. “From now on you will perform your wifely duties for me.”

  She stared at him with hate and not a little fear. “Keep your hands off me.”

  He laughed and released her head. “I wouldn’t touch you if you were the last woman on earth, but you are my property, and for the next year you will obey me. Now lie down.”

  He laughed again at the fear in her eyes, but not as viciously as the last time. “Did you think I planned to sleep outside in this rain?”

  She lay down, as far on the side of the cot as was possible. He removed his towel and stretched out beside her, naked. He pulled the blankets over them, and soon the rain lulled them to sleep.

  Seth woke first in the morning. As he looked at her sleeping figure he smiled, and then remembered all he had said the night before. He wanted to kiss her, to hold her close, to make love to her. Then he remembered her with Joaquín. Feeling Morgan snuggle closer to him in her sleep, he slipped out of bed and dressed quickly.

  Outside the air was wet and the ground muddy after the heavy rains. After a cold breakfast, they started the day’s miserable journey. Morgan gathered chips for the fire.

  Joaquín met her in the twilight. “Ah, Morgan, I have been noticing that you look sadder than ever today. Is something wrong?”

  Joaquín made her feel good. He noticed her, and cared about her moods.

  “Here, let me help you with that.” He took the bucket of chips from her. “Remember, I am your friend.”

  She looked at him and smiled. “Thank you. Everyone has been so kind, you and Jake and Frank and…” She finished uncertainly.

  “Your husband is a man of many conflicts. I’m not sure he knows how to love.”

  “Montoya!”

  They both turned to see Seth standing a few feet away.

  “If you want to keep that dapper little body of yours in one piece, then you’ll stay away from my wife!”

  Joaquín’s eyes flashed hatred for an instant, and then they cleared to hold amusement. “Goodnight, señor, señora.” He smiled at Morgan and left.

  Seth glared at Morgan. “It seems I can’t leave you alone even for seconds.” He extended a hand and caressed the back of her neck.

  His touch made her skin come alive. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. Seth groaned softly and removed his hand. “Let’s eat. Tomorrow we come to the Arkansas River, and we’ll need plenty of rest before crossing it.”

  Seth told her that there were beginning to be signs of Indians, and he thought she’d be safer in the wagon. They’d all start taking turns soon with night watches.

  Morgan undressed hurriedly and slipped into the voluminous nightgown. Seth walked in and caught a glimpse of his wife in front of the lantern, the light from which made the gown transparent. He had a sight of slim legs and a small waist, and then she slipped beneath the covers. He frowned and looked away. “Someday I’m going to tear off her damn clothes and see what she looks like,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Did you say something?” Morgan asked from under the quilt.

  “Just go to sleep.” His voice was gruff.

  The Arkansas River was wide and shallow with no trees on either side. Yet there was an island in the middle covered with cottonwood trees.

  They stopped early that night, ready to cross the river the next morning. Morgan began to think of a bath and washing her hair. She visualized herself in the water, feeling thoroughly clean for once.

  Seth and Frank had gone ahead to look for signs of Indians. Only Jake and Joaquín were left with the wagons. If she hurried, she could have her bath before Seth returned.

  Quickly she got soap and a towel together and then told Jake where she was going. She saddled a horse and left.

  Seth and Frank returned to the camp some time later.

  “No sign of Indians, yet,” Frank said in answer to Jake’s question, “but a lot of buffalo trails. You’d better get your frying pan ready for some buffalo steaks.”

  “Where’s Morgan?” Seth stepped from behind their wagon.

  Jake looked up from his cup of coffee. “She went over to that little island to take a bath.” He returned to his conversation with Frank.

  Seth quickly made sure that Joaquín was in the camp. He was sitting a little aside from the fire, polishing the silver on his ornate saddle. When their eyes met, Joaquín gave Seth a knowing look.

  Quickly, Seth straddled his horse and started toward the island. He made his way across the water slowly. He knew there wasn’t any danger now, but the idea of his little wife being alone so far from camp made him uneasy.

  He led his horse across the sandy island to the far side and tied him near a clump of sweet grass. Morgan’s horse was closer to the shoreline. He smiled as he looked down and saw her clothes in a heap on the shore. He saw her a few feet away, standing waist-deep in the water, her back to him. Her hair was full of soap suds. He stepped back into the trees, in a shadow of the fading sunlight.

  The sunlight glowed on her skin. It was the color of pale honey. He could hear her humming as she lathered her hair. She turned quickly and extended her arms to the water, and then went below the surface. Seth jerked upright from leaning against the tree, and his breath caught at his first glimpse of Morgan’s nude body.

  No clothes on earth could hide a body like that. It must be a trick of the setting sun. Morgan had said herself that she had a boy’s body. That’s just the way she looked sometimes, too, like a young boy in a woman’s clothes. How could this lovely creature be his plain Morgan?

  Seth stopped thinking when he realized he had not seen Morgan surface. Quickly he ran into the water toward the spot where he had last seen her. He saw one small hand above the surface. He dived under the water and caught her small body in his arms. Her foot was entangled between two logs. He twisted it and it came free.

  He carried her to the beach and stretched her out on the sand. As she coughed up the water she had swallowed, she lay in his arms with her eyes closed, half-conscious and breathing jerkily.

  She began to awaken, and found herself lying in Seth’s arms. It seemed to her, in that moment, that every time she needed help, Seth was there. She smiled up at him and snuggled her head closer to his chest. Seth was too astonished to smile back.

  Something in Seth’s manner made her realize her situation. She sat up, trying to cover her breasts with her arms. “What happened? Seth, go away!” Her voice was frantic.

  “Little wife, you need not try to cover anything—there’s nothing I haven’t seen.” Then, releasing her, he said, “I think you had better get dressed now, because you are very close to losing something other than your life.”

  They slept in the wagon again that night.

  Morgan remembered how she had felt today, awakening beside the water in Seth’s arms. For an instant
she had felt warm and safe. But she realized now that all he had cared about was seeing her without her clothes. As she drifted off to sleep, she wondered what Seth had thought when he saw her nude. “Probably thought I looked like a boy compared to Cynthia Ferguson,” she murmured, before she fell asleep.

  In sleep, his arms enfolded her and held her close to him. Morgan was getting used to having his body near hers, to feeling his breath close to her ear.

  Joaquín was the first to notice Seth’s and Morgan’s new attitude toward one another. He had seen several changes in them already. At one time they had looked at one another with an expression akin to love. Now they never seemed to look at one another at all, though Joaquín had noticed Seth staring wistfully at Morgan a few times.

  From the moment Joaquín saw Morgan on the stairs of the hotel in Kansas City, he had known she was beautiful. He had been surprised that it was not treated as a fact, and generally accepted by everyone. It amazed him that all men couldn’t see her beauty just because of ill-fitting clothes, and that rather sad look about her. There were times when that expression left her face, and she held her head up, and her shoulders didn’t drop. Ah! Then she really was beautiful.

  Colter, thought Joaquín, you’ve had everything all your life, but you won’t have it all much longer. No, Nuevo Mexico will soon belong to us again. His lips curled. He lifted his coffee cup to Seth in a simulated toast.

  After crossing the Arkansas, the group had taken on a tension that hadn’t been there before. Seth or Frank constantly rode ahead to check for signs of Indians. Each night the campfires were smaller, and there was little conversation. At the snap of a twig, someone jumped toward the sound with a rifle or gun.

  They were over halfway there now, and Morgan longed for the jolting days to stop.

  “Morgan, I’m glad to see you holding up so well under the strain,” Frank told her one night.

  She managed a smile. “My father seemed to think New Mexico was worth all this.” Her hand swept toward the blackness outside the little camp.