The Enchanted Land (41 page)

Colter, he thought, you’ve stood back too long. There’s only so much a man can take before he has to assert himself.

Upstairs, he decided not to go to the nursery again. He wanted to see no more of what he’d seen today. He lay awake a long time, thinking. It wasn’t an easy plan he came up with, but it was a necessary one.

In the morning, he went back to the nursery. Morgan was asleep. She looked worse than he remembered. He kissed her cheek and she jumped, awake instantly.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Adam had a restless night.”

“Poor boy. How is he feeling this morning?”

“I think he’s better, but I’m never sure. It’s such a chore to get him to eat now. Roselle is making crullers today, and I hope I can coax him to eat at least one.”

Seth smiled at her. “Would you like to join me for breakfast?”

“No, I ought to stay with Adam. He might need something.”

“You’re right, dear, he may need something.”

Morgan returned his smile. She was grateful for his understanding.

He kissed her cheek again. “I may be late tonight
I’m sure there are a lot of things to do on the ranch.” He watched as Morgan wiped Adam’s brow. The older man squinted his eyes in threat to his son and he could have sworn he saw the hint of a dimple. In the hallway, he chuckled to himself. At least his son wasn’t ignorant. Adam was playing a good thing for all it was worth. The problem was Morgan.

Seth spent the day organizing men, assigning work crews, and arranging plans. When he got to the house, everything was dark and everyone was in bed. Roselle got up when she heard Seth in the kitchen.

“Mr. Colter, I’ve kept food warm for you.”

“Roselle, I hate to do this to you. I know it’s late, but could you wake Martin? I have something rather important to discuss with you.”

It was very late when the three of them finally got to bed. As Seth sank into the soft mattress, he smiled. He felt better than he had in a long time. Everything was ready. He did not look forward to this. He hated himself, but it had to be done.

W
HEN
Morgan awoke on the cot, Adam was still sleeping. She was tired, but the minor aches she felt were worth it if Adam was well again. She couldn’t forget those horrible days when he’d been so ill, so near death. She’d gladly give up part of her life to keep him well, to protect him from further illness. It was her fault that Adam had been so sick. If she had not given him so much freedom, he would never have been so ill.

Something was wrong in the house—it was too quiet. People were usually stirring by now. Roselle could be heard in the kitchen, and Carol always brought breakfast upstairs for the two of them. Adam opened his eyes and moaned. She flew to his side. Always, in those first few seconds, she fought a rising panic.

“Are you hungry, baby? Eat?” She pantomimed the last word.

Adam nodded curtly, his lower lip extended in a pout.

“Carol is late this morning.” She went to the door and looked out. The hall was empty. “I can’t imagine where everyone is.” She called for Roselle and Carol but there was no answer. “Adam, sweet, mommy must leave you for just a few seconds. You rest and I’ll be right back.”

She opened the bedroom doors next to Adam’s room. The rooms were all empty She stopped at the top of the stairs and called again. There was still no
answer. She ran back to Adam’s room. “Mommy has to go downstairs. She’ll be back very soon.” She kissed his forehead. Where was everyone? How could they desert her and a very sick little boy? There was also fear. It started at the nape of her neck and moved down her spine.

The dining room was empty. She knew Seth always ate breakfast downstairs. The kitchen was empty, with the stove cold and nothing on the big work table. The fear inside her began to spread. Something must have caused their disappearance.

She tried to calm herself. There had to be a simple explanation for all this. At the same time, she wanted to run back upstairs and protect Adam.

The kitchen door was open and she walked outside. The sunshine hurt her eyes. She had not left Adam’s room for nearly two weeks, and she squinted against the glare. The barn door stood open and she hurried toward it. Her legs were weak from disuse. It was dark and cool in the barn. She saw no one. She heard a movement from an empty stall and breathed a sigh of relief. She had a vision of the time she’d caught Donaciano asleep in an empty stall. She’d certainly be glad to see the boy now!

She took two steps toward the stall, and then—blackness! She was suffocating! Something very heavy was on her body, covering her. She couldn’t breathe. There were hands, many hands, pulling and twisting her. She began to fight, but there was no fighting the enormous weight of the thing that was cutting off her breath. She screamed, but even to her the sound was slight. Where was everyone? Was she truly alone with her attacker?

As she was moved a few feet, she tried to remain standing, but the long skirt tripped her and she fell to her knees. There were rough, cruel hands handling her. She felt them on her wrists and there was something
else, too. It was a rope! If only she could breathe! She fought her unseen foe, struggling while gasping for air. But she couldn’t even ascertain the direction in which her enemy stood.

The thing on her head, covering her entire body, weighed her down. Her neck was going to break under the weight of it. She began to breathe deeply. It was no use struggling. She tried again to scream.

She struggled to stand on her feet but fell forward onto her face. More hands tied a gag around her mouth. Another cloth was tied across her eyes. The enormous weight was lifted from her body. She breathed deeply of the cool air, glad to fill her lungs once again.

She could see nothing. Hands pulled her to her feet. Then she was thrown, roughly, and something hit her in the stomach. She was being carried upside down. She tried to push away with her tied hands, but met only with a wall. Something clasped her legs together in an iron grip.

Abruptly, she was stood upright, on her feet. She could see light through the blindfold, feel the sun on her body. She turned at the sound of a voice. Someone was near! Please help me, her mind cried. Please! My little boy needs me!

It was very much like the time she’d been taken by Cat Man, but that time she had been sure Seth would rescue her. This time she was not so sure he would, not after the way she’d been treating him. She was tossed astride a saddle and instinctively grabbed the pommel. Her attacker mounted behind her, and she kicked back sharply with her right heel. She heard his indrawn breath. She started to kick again, but an arm was fastened around her waist and, as she lifted her foot, it tightened, cutting off her breath. It relaxed when she lowered her foot.

They rode for a long time. She couldn’t see. She
concentrated on breathing slowly and deeply, and on balancing herself on the horse. She heard the horse’s hooves occasionally splashing in water, as if they crossed several streams. Sometimes she felt her attacker’s thigh muscles, pressed against hers, as he urged the horse uphill. She was weak from two weeks of little food and even less sleep.

She began to gather her senses. Maybe this madman who held her was just one of many. Maybe they’d already killed Roselle and Martin—and Seth! Would Seth be safe? She hadn’t thought much of Seth lately, but now she was very concerned about him. How could she have ignored him so much lately?

Abruptly, she was taken off the horse. She stood quietly, holding her balance. She heard footsteps behind her and then a door opened. Hands guided her through the door, up the one step over the threshold.

She listened. She sniffed the air and soon discovered burning logs. He began circling her. She heard his slow, easy footsteps.

His hands were on her shoulders, then on her head. She felt the tie that bound her hair being pulled away. The hands were spreading her hair, combing it with gentle fingers. She stepped away from him, but the grip on her shoulders tightened.

The hands were on her waist, encircling it, the thumbs in front as they moved upward to touch the undercurve of her breasts. She stood still, rigid. He touched her face, his palms on her cheeks.

He began unfastening the little buttons down the front of the soiled cotton dress. No! She shook her head. She made a noise in her throat. His hands worked slowly. She felt the bodice part and knew the corset and underlying chemise were exposed.

She felt a tugging, and something cold touched her shoulder. She jerked away, falling to her knees. She sat back, ready to kick her assailant. Her shoulder hurt and it was warm and damp. Blood! He’d cut her.

She stood very still. A cool cloth was placed on her cut shoulder and the pain stopped. She felt a tug again on the shoulder of the dress, and it fell away on one side. She felt another tug and then a tearing sound. The dress had been removed from her body. She heard footsteps and then felt extra heat from the fire. He had burned the dress!

She felt sharp little jerks as the laces on her corset were cut. Then it, too, fell away. She breathed deeply when the constricting garment was gone. He tore off her chemise and threw both it and the corset on the fire.

Hands went to the back of her head and unfastened the blindfold. Everything was a blur and then her eyes began to focus…

“Hello, little wife. Oh, no, I plan to leave the gag on for a while. I have a great deal to say to you, and I don’t want any interruptions.”

She leaned forward to cover herself, her eyes pleading with him to allow her to shield herself.

“As you can see, I burned your clothes. I plan to keep you just like that for some time.” He sat in a chair by the fireplace. “Come here, a little closer. I want to really enjoy you.” He took her arm and she tried to jerk away, but he held fast.

“You’re really angry, aren’t you?”

She nodded vigorously, staring intently.

“I will explain. I am a very patient man, but I am not a martyr. I was willing to wait for you for years, as I’ve told you, but the way things were going at the Three Crowns would have tried the patience of a saint. How many women can say their husbands have made only one mistake? It was a big mistake, and I was rather ah … unpleasant … about it. And it did cause a great deal of misfortune for us both.

“Morgan, if you keep frowning at me with such ferocity, your entire forehead will be wrinkled in two days. I know I’m simplifying things, but I’ve stood by now for nearly a month and watched you ‘leading your
own life,’ and I believe you are only making a mess of it.”

She started to pull away from him, but he pulled her onto his lap, her head on his shoulder, legs across him. “I like this very much.

“I don’t know if I can go on talking to you.” His voice was husky as he stroked her thighs. “It was such a surprise when I first saw your body. And every time I’ve seen it since—too few times—I have marveled again at the perfection of it.

“Morgan, I love you so much.” He ignored the loud noise of protest she made in her throat. “I thought everything was solved when Gordon left, but then Adam got sick and I had to leave to take Lupita home. When I returned, I knew something had to be done, and done quickly. You need someone to guide you, to care for you. I leave you alone for a week, and look what happens! You quit eating, bathing—you smell awful, you know—and you turn my nice, laughing little boy into a whining monster.

“Every time I have been away from you, terrible things have happened. I left the wagons on the way to New Mexico, and Cat Man took you. I was late to a party and, well … you know what happened then.”

She turned her head away.

“I just couldn’t do it anymore,” he switched subjects abruptly.

She looked at him in question.

“I couldn’t stand by and let you make a fool of yourself. You need me.”

She jerked her head up, chin out.

“You’re very good at pantomiming. You do need me, and these last few days prove it.”

His voice was lower. “Would you like to know what I have planned for you? I plan to keep you here until you get over your anger. That may be a year or so. And then we’ll wait until you admit that you love me. Oh, you think that’s impossible, but I assure you it’s not.
Meanwhile, while you’re making up your mind about your feelings for me, I plan to drive you wild with passion.”

Her eyes widened and her body stiffened.

“Not right now, though. First, I’m going to bathe you, feed you, and let you rest for a time. Maybe.” He looked at her golden skin. “I should like to see you just as you are for a while, a long while. I hope you like it here because Roselle—yes, Roselle, and don’t look as if she were a traitor, she nearly gave me away at the barn—Roselle packed enough food to last us a month. If that isn’t enough time, I’ll lock you in here and go get more. You, dearest”—he kissed her nose—“are my prisoner of love.”

He rubbed the stubble of his whiskers on her stomach, and she laughed against her will.

“Do I perceive a softening? I’ll remove the gag if you won’t scream—not that anyone would hear you, but because it grates on my ears.” He removed the cloth binding her mouth.

“Seth Colter! You are the most horrible—”

He closed her lips with a kiss, a sweet kiss.

“You can’t escape, so just relax.” He kissed her again, this time with more passion. His lips touched hers as he talked. “Morgan, sweet, did anyone … ever tell you … that … you … stink?”

“You!” She bit his shoulder hard.

He stared in puzzlement at the bright drop of blood gathering there and then laughed. “I guess that repays me for your shoulder. I wouldn’t have cut you except you jumped like a jackrabbit.”

“Seth, Adam needs me.”

“That, love, is where you’re wrong. Adam does not need you. At least for a while he doesn’t. The way you were acting, I could imagine Adam thirty-two years old and still being diapered by his little old mother, who hadn’t had a bath since he was two years old.”

Morgan started to protest, but then a giggle escaped her. It was such a silly picture. “Was I that bad?”

“Another week and he’d have forgotten how to walk. He’d already forgotten how to talk.”

“But why all this?” Her glance included the cabin and her still-tied hands.

“What would you have said if I’d said, ‘Morgan, let’s go spend a couple of weeks alone in a mountain cabin’?”

“Well, I would have—”

“You’d have found two hundred excuses why we couldn’t go.”

“But why the gag and tying my hands, and the tearing off of my clothes?”

“You had to be gagged or you would have screamed all the way here, and I didn’t feel like fighting you all the way.” He grinned at her, showing deep dimples. “Removing your clothes was my lustful idea. I guess I’m a pirate at heart, a kidnapper and ravisher of young girls.” He tickled her with his beard.

“Seth”—she was laughing—“will you untie my hands now?”

“No.”

“No?”

“Not until you’ve had a bath. You smell worse than the men in the bunkhouse.”

“Seth!”

“I mean it. If a bear came in here right now, he’d think you were his mate.”

“You!” She tried to raise a tied hand to strike him. “Why can’t I have a romantic lover, like the ones in novels?”

“Which one of those characters do you want? The one who throws you to the ground and has his will of you, or the on-his-knees, hand-kissing type?”

“I don’t…”

“Just tell me, my Guinevere. I am your Lancelot.”

She giggled.

“Well, sir, the rules of chivalry definitely state that knights do not tell their ladies that they—stink.”

“My sweet—ah, maybe sweet isn’t the right word… My love—believe it or not, I do still love you—royal ladies do not stink. They take baths.”

“Fair knight, will you lead this lady to her bathing chamber?”

Seth unceremoniously dumped Morgan from his lap. He strode to the door and opened it. “Your bathing chamber awaits.”

“It’s cold out there. Let’s heat some water in here.”

“I have a large bar of scented soap, and I plan to use the entire thing on your lovely body.”

“That’s all right. I have grown up now, and I can bathe all by himself.”

His eyes raked her. “I can see that you have grown up, and that is precisely why I plan to bathe you. Now if you don’t want to get raped, you better go outside where I can cool off.”