Oh God! What she went through! Montoya sold her to some Apaches, to be used in a white-slave auction! Seth had heard of Madame Nicole’s auctions. They were becoming famous in San Francisco. He’d heard, too, that sometimes the women purchased there were reluctant about their new jobs. It was whispered that Madame Nicole came by them in a rather mysterious manner.
Then there were the men in the saloon, when he’d first come to San Francisco. It was obvious now that they’d lied to a stranger, just to see him make a fool of himself over something they knew he could never have. Morgan was not to be had. That was the point. That had been the crux of their little joke.
What she’d been through! He remembered the night he went to her room, how he’d ignored her declarations of love. He sat down on a rock, his head in his hands. What had he done?
Morgan, can you ever forgive me? Can I ever make it up to you?
He stood up, staring at the sun. “I’ll make it up to you, Morgan. I vow here and now that I’ll find you and make it up to you. I’ll never doubt you again, no matter where you are or what has happened to you. If it takes the rest of my life, I’ll convince you that I love you.”
Seth began walking down the mountainside, slowly at first, and then with stronger strides. Well, Colter, you’ve had enough time to feel sorry for yourself. A year—no! it was over two years since the night he had sneaked into Morgan’s bedroom. He smiled cruelly at himself. Two years of his life had been devoted to self-pity.
But he was through with that now. He was going to go to Morgan and fight for her. If she hated him, it would take longer. But he’d make her love him again.
“Seth! Where’ve you been? I was lookin’ for you. I was afraid my cookin’ might have killed you off.” Jessy looked up at Seth. He seemed ten years younger. “What’s happened to you? You look like somebody died and left you a gold mine.”
Seth put his big hands on Jessy’s shoulders and, to her astonishment, gave her a resounding kiss on the mouth. It wasn’t the passionate embrace she’d hoped for, but it was a start. She smiled up at him. His eyes were sparkling. She’d never noticed the deep blueness of them before.
“I don’t know what’s come over you, but I sure like it. Hey! What’re you doin’?”
Seth was putting the saddle on his horse. “Jessy, I’ll owe you till the day I die. No matter what I do, I’ll never be able to repay you. Here.” He took a plump leather pouch from his saddle bag and handed it to her.
Jessy felt the bag and knew it contained gold dust and nuggets. “What’s this for? I don’t understand what I did—but I know what I’d like to do.” Seth’s good humor was infectious.
Seth swung onto his horse. “Jessy, it’s been a real pleasure knowing you.”
“Wait!” She ran after Seth and he stopped. “What did I do? You have to tell me.”
“My name’s not Blake, it’s Colter—Seth Colter.”
“Colter! You’re—you’re Morgan’s Seth? But you were supposed to be dead.”
“Morgan thought I was dead, but it takes a lot to kill me.” He laughed. “Morgan’s Seth. Lord, I hope you’re right. Goodbye, Jessy, and if you ever need help, come to Santa Fe, to the Colter ranch.” He reined his horse and started toward San Francisco.
“What about your gear? Your tent?” she called after him.
“It’s yours.”
Jessy stood and watched Seth until she could no longer see his broad back. “I’ll be damned. Morgan’s Seth. Who would’a thought he’d be alive.” She remembered the way Seth had looked at her. “No wonder she pined after him for so long. Lord! What I wouldn’t give to be her right now and have a man like that gallopin’ after me.”
She turned back to the barren camp and shrugged. Jessy was not a dreamer, and she did not spend time longing after something she could not have. The gold Seth had given her, the tent, and his panning gear were more than enough reward for her. “Imagine that—Morgan’s Seth,” she murmured as she entered Seth’s tent. It was good to have a place of her own.
Seth’s first impulse when he reached San Francisco was to break down Theron’s door. He laughed as he realized he’d already used cave-man tactics on Morgan. This time, he was going to go slowly. He would not push her. He was going to woo her, court her.
The first place he went was back to the little tailor who had made the suit for him two years ago.
Seth grinned broadly at the man.
“You certainly look nicer this time,” the tailor said. “Last time I was afraid to speak, afraid my head would be removed from my shoulders.”
“It might have been, too. Tell me, could you fit me with another suit?”
“Let me guess. You want it in three hours?”
“I think you and I are going to get along fine. You think this could hurry you along?” Seth dropped several gold coins on the table.
The tailor smiled at him. “Mr….”
“Colter.”
“Mr. Colter, it is a pleasure to do business with you. Let’s get on with the measurements.”
Later, when Seth was putting his rough cotton work clothes back on, the tailor said, “Mr. Colter, I am curious about something. When you were here before—what, a year and a half, two years ago?—you came in demanding a suit. Now it’s the same thing. I know this is all caused by a woman, but I’d like to know if it is a different woman this time or the same woman.”
Seth’s laughter filled the room. “It’s the same woman.” He picked up his hat and was nearly out the door when he turned back. “And the woman is my wife.”
The tailor laughed. It wasn’t often a man was so particular when the woman was his wife.
Seth went to a hotel, ordered a hot bath, and impatiently scrubbed weeks of dirt from his body. He marveled at himself. For the first time in two years, he was alive. He had admitted long ago how much he loved Morgan, but nothing could have lightened his spirit like finding out that Morgan had really always loved him.
Seth spent another hour at the barber’s and then got his suit from the tailor. “Good luck,” the man called after Seth.
By the time Seth reached Theron’s house, he was shaking. Damn! he thought. I’m like a bridegroom on his wedding night. Would Morgan slam the door in his face? A butler answered the door.
“I’d like to see Mr. Shaw, please.”
The butler appraised him, and Seth seemed to stand up under his scrutiny. “If you will wait inside, sir, I’ll see if Mr. Shaw is in.”
Seth waited in the spacious hallway. So this is what Morgan had been living in for the past two and a half years! It was a far cry from the adobe house on his ranch. He was glad he had some money now, glad he could give her things like this.
“If you’ll come this way, sir.”
Seth followed the butler into a room of golds and rusts. He stared at the man coming toward him. He’d seen Theron once before, but had paid little attention to him. He was incredibly handsome, smooth and blond. His features and trim physique were almost too perfect.
“Mr. Colter, I believe.”
Seth was surprised at Theron’s use of his name.
“Oh, yes, Mr. Colter, I know who you are. In fact, I’ve followed your adventures all over the gold fields. I must commend you for your wisdom in buying land here. I believe you are on your way to becoming a very wealthy man.”
“You have the upper hand, Mr. Shaw. I know nothing about you.”
“Won’t you have a seat, please? Anyone who has lived with Morgan has heard of the great and wonderful Seth Colter.” Theron’s voice had a slight sarcastic edge to it.
Theron walked to an oak cabinet against the wall. The front of it was carved in a high relief. It was very old. He pulled a knob, and the front lowered into a shelf, held in place by delicate chains. “Could I get you something to drink, Mr. Colter? A brandy, perhaps?”
Seth nodded and Theron handed him a large crystal snifter of brandy. They both paused and savored it.
“Now, what can I do for you on this beautiful
afternoon?” Theron’s eyes were cold. This was the man Morgan had cried for, had been ready to die for. Seth Colter had taken her devotion lightly, had flung it in her face, used it against her.
“I’d like to see my wife.”
Theron put his glass down and walked to the window, hands clasped behind him. He must control his anger. This… Kentucky lout walked in here and demanded to see his wife. Where the hell had he been when she needed him? He hadn’t even been with her when the baby was born. Little Adam! He probably didn’t even know he had a son. He certainly didn’t deserve Adam. Theron breathed deeply and turned back to Seth.
“Mr. Colter, it is my opinion that you have lost all right to your wife.”
Seth toyed with the brandy glass. He smiled up at Theron, a cold smile. “As you say, that is your opinion. What is between my wife and me is our business alone.”
He certainly was cool. “Morgan has been my close friend for some time now, and what concerns her concerns me. I believe you have lost your priority in her life.”
Seth frowned into the glass. “You are right, Mr. Shaw. I’ve been so wrong. I’ve done some horrible things to Morgan. I’d like to start again. I’d like to say some things to her that I should have said a long time ago. A great deal of our trouble is the result of plain misunderstanding.”
“Oh, so the long-lost lover has come to his senses at last and now rushes to his little bride’s side. Well, Colter, you are too late. Nearly two years too late. Morgan’s gone.”
Seth was on his feet. “Gone? Where is she?”
“Did you think she’d stay here and wait patiently for two years while you made up your mind whether you wanted her or not?”
Seth sat down, heavily, clumsily, setting the brandy snifter on the table next to him. His voice was quiet. “Everything is my fault. I have always had such a temper. I am thirty-five years old, and still I’ve never learned to control it. I’ve never loved a woman before, not the way I fell in love with Morgan. I couldn’t stand it when I thought she didn’t return my love. I didn’t think—I just flew into a rage.
“You mentioned my investments. I made those for Morgan. I decided some time ago that I loved her no matter what she’d done, even if she had worked in a … brothel. Even if she was your mistress. I decided I didn’t care, that if she could be bought, then I would buy her. I set about making money.
“Today I found out what a fool I had been, what I had done to Morgan. She should hate me. I know she must, and I deserve it. But I still love her.”
He looked up at Theron, standing by the window. “I want to make it up to her. No matter how long it takes, I want to prove to her that I do love her.” He looked down at the floor again. The room was silent.
Theron took a seat across from Seth. “Morgan left here not long after your, ah … visit.”
Seth moved uncomfortably, not meeting Theron’s eyes.
“She says she hates you, and she has reason to, but I believe she needs you. She is living now at her father’s ranch, the Three Crowns.”
Seth looked up. “Yes. I know the place.”
“She is living there with a sort of foster cousin—the son of her father’s partner, a very pleasant young man—of whom I believe Morgan is growing increasingly fond.”
Seth watched Theron intently.
“If you want her, I’d suggest you go quickly.”
Both men rose and stood facing one another.
“I know I haven’t deserved your consideration, but I thank you, and I thank you for taking care of Morgan. Jessy seemed to think you two liked one another.”
“Jessy? Ah yes, Morgan’s friend. Jessy told you Morgan’s story, then?”
“Yes.”
“I looked for you for a long time after that night, even though Morgan refused to mention your name. When I did find out about you, she was already in New Mexico.”
“I have a great deal to do before I can leave San Francisco. I need to take care of my property. As soon as I can, I’ll be off to New Mexico—to Morgan.” He took Theron’s hand. “You won’t regret trusting me. I know you care for her.”
Seth left the room and Theron stared after him. He wondered if he’d done the right thing. Morgan was happy at the ranch with Gordon and Adam. He didn’t know if he should have broken into her peace. But he knew how much she’d always loved Seth. And, of course, there was Adam now. No matter what, Adam was Seth’s son and Seth deserved at least to see the boy.
He smiled to himself. He’d like to see Seth’s face when he discovered he had a son. And Morgan’s when she saw Seth! He laughed aloud. It was almost tempting to make the journey to New Mexico. He shuddered. New Mexico was too ghastly to even consider. How could anyone want to live in that wasteland?
Oh, well, he sighed. Back to work. Mrs. Osborne needed some new drapes. Morgan would have loved these. They were several shades of Morgan’s abhorred purple, and the figures on them resembled gargoyles rather than the young ladies they were supposed to be. He still missed Morgan’s cutting little remarks and, he had to admit, the stir they caused when they went places together.
It took Seth a week to take care of his business in San Francisco. He found a young lawyer, Tim Bradbury, who was disillusioned and disgusted with the gold fields. Seth was his first client. With Seth’s holdings to administer, he was able to set up his own law practice. He was grateful to Seth. To keep his gratitude, Seth gave him a share of the rents and a percentage of the profits from the sale of any land. Revenues were to be sent to a bank in Santa Fe.
His mind was clear when he set out for Santa Fe. He was free to give all his attention to his wife.
Chapter Nineteen
MORGAN was happily surprised by the ranch house of the Three Crowns. It was built in the Spanish tradition, like the Montoya ranch. It was enormous.
“What do you think?” Gordon asked her as they looked down on the spacious house from the ridge above.
The house was the same color as the surrounding countryside and seemed always to have been there. It nestled down amidst the piñon trees and the much taller cottonwoods.
“There’s a river near the house.” Gordon pointed to a strip of green not far from the house. “Are you surprised?”
“Very. It’s practically a mansion. How many rooms does it have?”
“I’ve never counted them, but you’ll have a lifetime to count them.” Gordon looked back at Adam, who’d climbed into the back of the wagon and fallen asleep. “We’d better get Adam into a bed.”
Morgan thought the inside of the house was even more beautiful than the outside. The rooms on the first floor were large and airy. They opened into a spacious courtyard, in the center of which was a tiled pool. Stone benches and statues were sprinkled among the trees and flowering shrubs.
“He’s asleep.” Gordon returned from putting Adam to bed. “Now, let’s meet the servants and have dinner.”
“Servants?” Morgan laughed. “I’m afraid I’ve become accustomed to doing most of the housework myself.”
“This is your home and here, if you want to, you can sit and eat chocolates all day.”
“Chocolates! I needed you when I was carrying Adam.”
Gordon looked puzzled and then smiled. “Oh, yes, Jake told me about your unusual eating habits.”
The servants were lined up in the foyer, at the bottom of the stairs.
“Roselle, our cook. Martin is our butler and general factotum. This is Carol, who takes care of the upstairs rooms. Donaciano, who is our groom. Carol’s sister, Magda, comes in during the days to help with the downstairs rooms.”
Morgan shook hands with each of them. Roselle and Martin were married and had worked in the house since it was built. Carol was a young girl, in her teens, very plain and rather shy. Donaciano was just a boy, about twelve or thirteen. Morgan learned later that Gordon had adopted him when his parents drowned two years earlier.
Gordon escorted her into the room adjoining the foyer, the dining room. The pine table was enor
mous, with at least twelve large pine chairs. It was covered now with a snowy white linen cloth and set with the finest Limoges porcelain and crystal. The silver was heavy and ornate.
“Gordon! It’s really beautiful.”
Gordon smiled at her praise. He liked to live comfortably. “Roselle is an excellent cook, and I think you’ll be pleased.”
The meal was delicious, as Gordon had promised. Martin served the meal expertly. Gordon raised a glass of chilled champagne to Morgan. “To your new home. To the hope that you find peace and happiness here and that you stay … forever.”
She smiled back at him. “I hope you’re right.”
By the time the meal was finished, Morgan felt her body drooping. Gordon put his arm around her and led her upstairs to her room. The room was feminine, a white lace bedspread on the bed. The covers were turned down to expose lace-edged pillows. Her nightgown was spread ready for her. Gordon left her and she quickly undressed and was asleep.
Gordon paused outside her door. “I love you, Morgan,” he whispered.
Morgan awoke to the sounds of Adam’s squeals of laughter outside her door. Hastily, she donned her dressing gown and went to investigate. Adam was perched on Martin’s shoulders, gleefully banging him on the head with a wooden horse, screaming, “Eat. Eat.”
Gordon followed closely behind Martin. “Morgan, we woke you. I’m sorry, but Adam was rather disturbed at waking and finding himself in a strange place.”
Morgan smiled up at her energetic son. “Thank you for caring for Adam, Martin.” She held up her arms and Adam tumbled into them, his weight nearly unbalancing her. Martin continued downstairs, rubbing his head.
“Now, where is this monster’s room?” She smiled affectionately at her son as he grinned up at her, showing two large dimples. “You know, I have a feeling he is going to be even more spoiled here than he was on the Colter ranch.”
Gordon smiled at her as he led her into Adam’s room. As she began to dress Adam, she looked around the room. It was filled with toys and pictures of children. When he was dressed, Gordon helped the child onto a large rocking horse.