“What about Farrell? Did you know him?”
“More than I wanted to, I’m afraid. Theron rescued me several times from his greedy little hands. Finally he told Mr. Farrell that if he didn’t stop his attentions, we would not return. I think Theron also threatened to tell his wife. Charley was deathly afraid of her.” She sipped her wine. “Where did you meet him?”
Seth looked down at his plate. “Just over a beer once. I didn’t really know him.”
Morgan didn’t understand Seth’s sudden seriousness. If anyone should not be taken seriously, it was Charley Farrell.
Martin removed the last of the dishes.
“That was a feast,” said Seth. “It seemed I couldn’t get enough of everything.”
“Well, if anyone could, you did. I don’t believe I’ve ever seen anyone eat as much as you did.”
He grinned at her. “I’m a growing boy. I need my strength.”
“Martin, we’ll have coffee in the courtyard—if that’s all right with you, Mr. Blake.”
They went outside and stood silent, listening to the New Mexico night sounds. There were coyotes near, howling. Seth walked to the little tiled pool. “It’s nice to be here with you, Morgan. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Gordon planned going away.”
Morgan hid her face. The thought had crossed her mind, too.
“Remember the days we spent in the canyon, below the Indian ruin?”
“No.”
He turned startled eyes toward her and then laughed. “Why don’t you come over here and let me kiss you?”
“Stop it, Seth, or I’ll go inside. All of that is over. We’re just … acquaintances now.”
“Good! Now that we’re acquaintances, we can become friends. And then we can become lovers.”
“Seth, you are impossible!”
“I hope you mean it’s impossible for us not to love one another. Did you ever ask yourself why you asked me to marry you, and not one of the other men at the Ferguson ball?”
“I heard you had a ranch in New Mexico.” She could hardly tell him she had liked his muscular thighs! She laughed.
Seth cocked his head and looked at her strangely. “Well, little one”—he walked toward her—“I think I’ll go to bed.” He put his hands on her shoulders and she drew back. He pulled her to him, their bodies close but not touching. Then he kissed her, lightly, on the cheek. “Goodnight, my wife.” He released her and was gone.
She stood staring at the place where he had been. He had no manners! He should have walked her to her own bedroom instead of leaving her standing alone in a darkened garden. Angrily, she mounted the stairs. His door was closed and all was quiet in the big house. She pulled the pins from her hair and hastily removed her dress, carelessly tossing it over the back of a chair. She pulled a nightgown from the drawer, a thin muslin gown, almost transparent. In bed she tossed and turned, not even understanding the reason for her restlessness.
Seth smiled as he heard her movements. Oh, yes, sweet … you do remember the time in the canyon.
It wasn’t long after Morgan fell asleep that she began to dream. She was back with Jacques and he had one hand on her hair, a knife at her throat. The Indians were watching. Then she saw Seth, heard his voice, calm and patient. “I’m here, sweetheart. There’s no need to worry, mi querida.”
She woke up slowly, fighting the horror of the dream. Seth held her in his lap. Her arms encircled his neck and held him tightly to her. He spoke softly, using sweet words while caressing the back of her head. She cried softly.
“Do you want to tell me, little one?”
The story came pouring out in a torrent. She told him about Jacques, about the dream. Then she told of Joaquín’s treachery, of the search that night for Seth, and then about the note. She told about Madame Nicole and how, on the night of the sale, she had seen Seth in the mirror and heard a music box. She didn’t see the color drain from his face as he remembered the night before Christmas when he had smashed the little box.
Morgan sobbed out the story of her humiliation on the night of the auction. She told about her fondness for Theron. She told of that night when she had been so glad to see Seth, of how she’d prayed that he hadn’t died, even though she had thought it was a hopeless prayer. There were tears in Seth’s eyes. “I’m sorry, sweet one. I’m here, now, and I won’t leave you again.”
She was like a child. He cradled and rocked her. She needed his tenderness. And she desperately needed the release the tears brought. Gradually, her breathing quieted and he knew she was asleep. Gently, he put her in bed and pulled the quilt about her. She made a small sucking sound, like Adam. He kissed her cheek and the tears that remained in her eyelashes.
Reluctantly, he went to the door between their rooms. It was locked. Puzzled, he left the room through the door to the hallway. Out of curiosity, he tried the door again from his side. It opened.
Gordon, he thought. Somehow Gordon had found out about them and had arranged that they be alone together in the house. Of course, it wouldn’t have been difficult to discover the truth, what with Morgan constantly shouting, “Seth Colter! You—!” It was music to his ears. If he guessed correctly, Gordon planned to stay away until he received word that Morgan and Seth were together again.
Adam had just raised his fist to bang on his mother’s door when a big hand turned the unreachable knob. He looked up to see his father, his finger to his lips. Adam quietly followed Seth into the room, stopping to look down on the sleeping woman.
Seth planted a soft kiss on the little pulse point below Morgan’s ear. She smiled in her sleep. Adam grinned up at his father and decided to imitate him. The boy’s mouth missed the mark, falling loudly and succulently on his mother’s ear. Instantly, Morgan’s eyes opened and her hand flew to her ear.
Adam and his father laughed together in conspiracy. “The two of you! I can’t even sleep peacefully!” She had to laugh. They were so much alike. “At least you should behave better than your son. He has the excuse of extreme youth.”
Seth’s grin broadened and Morgan could swear his chest puffed out at least another two inches.
“Why are you strutting about this morning?”
“That’s the first time you’ve ever admitted that he’s mine.”
She frowned. “Of course, he’s yours. Just look at him. I don’t guess two people could look more alike.”
Seth looked at his son adoringly. “I know, but I like to hear you say it anyway.”
“You’re worse than Lupita’s roosters. He has to be yours. You’re the only man I ever—” She hadn’t meant to say that. He had no right to know.
Seth sat down heavily beside her. “I’m the only man who’s ever made love to you?”
She looked away, absently watching Adam, who was pulling the lace trim from a pillowcase. “Yes,” she whispered.
He grabbed her shoulders, pulled her to him, and kissed her loudly and heartily on the mouth. “I know it shouldn’t matter, and I love you no matter what, but that makes me very happy. Son, before you destroy your mother’s bed linens, how about a piggyback ride downstairs?” Adam climbed on his father’s back and they stopped in the doorway. “Why don’t you stay there? I’ll give Adam to Roselle and I’ll come back and join you.”
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.
Chapter Twenty-Three
WHEN 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 w
ant 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?
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