Page 4 of The Enchanted Land


  Just before dinner, Morgan went upstairs to wash, and as she left the room to return downstairs, she heard Seth talking with another man. She paused at the top of the stairs to look at her father-in-law.

  She had seen some of Seth’s expressions in his mother’s face, but looking at William Colter was like seeing Seth in twenty years’ time. He was a large man. The two of them seemed to fill the room. The older man still had an abundance of hair. And they had the same indulgent, patronizing looks on their faces as they watched the three sisters.

  Seth looked up and saw her first. For a second she wished he had looked at her the same way she had seen some men look at their brides, but she buried the desire.

  “Well, well, well, I have another daughter, and such a pretty one, too.” William Colter extended his arms.

  Morgan took both his hands in hers, and said, “I am indeed your daughter, but you certainly must not be seeing me correctly!” She said this with a smile.

  William took her arm through his, patted her hand, and smiled. “All women are pretty to me. Shall we eat? I’m starved.”

  They all entered the dining room, and sat at a large mahogany table. Morgan was seated between William and Seth, with Nora across from her. Austine and Eleanor sat beside Nora, and Jennifer was beside Seth. It was easy to see that Jennifer, especially, adored Seth.

  “Papa,” Eleanor started, “Morgan needs some new clothes and we must have them made before they leave. Could you take us to Louisville tomorrow to purchase fabric?”

  William turned to Morgan, and for the first time noticed her dress.

  “May we, Papa?” Jennifer continued.

  “Yes, of course. I need to make some purchases myself.”

  Nora looked at Morgan, aware of her stress. She knew enough about her new daughter-in-law to know that she would not like a day shopping with the three giggling girls.

  “Girls, you forget that Morgan is a new bride. I am sure she’d like to spend the day with her husband.”

  Morgan sent Nora a grateful look. “Do you ride, Morgan?” Nora asked calmly.

  “Yes, but I haven’t been on a horse in two years.”

  “All right then. Seth, you must take your wife on a tour of the Colter plantation.”

  Seth said, “Why, of course.” He took Morgan’s hand from where it lay on the tablecloth and raised it to his lips. His eyes were mocking as he said, “I’d love to take my little bride for a day in the country. Is that all right, mi querida?”

  “Oh, Seth,” Jennifer breathed, “you are so romantic!”

  Morgan turned to see the entire family watching. Eleanor and Austine had rather dreamy expressions, but Nora and William looked like two fat, contented hens. They were pleased that their son had finally married.

  Again, Jennifer was the first to break the silence. “But how will we know what to buy for Morgan? She must go with us.”

  Morgan calmly said, “As you can see, I know little about clothes. Whatever pleases you will please me.”

  Nora said, “No. My daughters tend toward flounces and laces. You are too small for those. And also,” she seemed to inventory Morgan’s face, “their dimpled, round, good looks tend toward pastels. You need clear, bright colors—reds, greens, black, and bright blues.” Nora spotted the bored look on her son’s face. She laughed. “Yes, dear. I will stop talking of clothes.”

  “Just make sure all the material is sturdy,” Seth added.

  The rest of the meal was filled with talk of the plantation.

  After the meal, Morgan retired to their room upstairs. The last two days had been exhausting. She entered the room to find Bessie filling a large, white bathtub.

  “I knew you’d be too tired to stay up very late, so it’s all ready for you.”

  “Thank you so much, Bessie. You don’t know how much I’m going to enjoy this.” She reached up to unpin her hair.

  “Here, young ’un, you just sit down and let old Bessie help you. I’ve done this more times ’an you can count, what with three little girls to raise.”

  As Morgan’s hair tumbled from the hard knot at the back of her head, Bessie drew in her breath. “Land sakes, child! Why do you want to keep all that beautiful stuff hidden?” She grabbed an armful of it and piled it on top of Morgan’s head. “You should let me fix it up for you, like this,” she said, as she pinned it loosely on top of Morgan’s head.

  Morgan laughed and stood up as Bessie unfastened the tiny buttons on the dress. As she stepped out of it, and then her undergarments, Bessie exclaimed, “Why, I thought you were kind of thick-waisted and that you had no bosom at all. But just look at you.”

  Morgan felt an urge to cover herself. She had never been nude before anyone except her mother and her nurse, and not since she was a child. She stepped into the tub, leaned back, and closed her eyes. She lay there, dreaming, and did not hear the door close behind Bessie, or open again.

  Seth stood for some minutes, looking down at his little wife. The blond hair was piled on her head, a few curls falling down her back and a few clinging to her steam-dampened face. Her skin was flawless, glistening over smooth shoulders, its creamy texture leading to the two round swellings just glimpsed above the cloudy water. One slim arm was on each side of the tub. He was looking at these when he realized her eyes were open.

  They looked at one another for a second, and Seth grinned. “My sisters sent me to ask you if you have any preference for a style of clothing. That seems to have a good deal of bearing on what fabric they choose.”

  Morgan, still holding his eyes, said evenly, “No. I know nothing about it.”

  Seth turned to go and then looked back, his eyes mischievous. “May I tell them that I prefer the style you have on now? That bathtub is by far the most becoming thing I have seen you wear.”

  “You!” Morgan glanced around for something to throw.

  Seth laughed. “Careful, or I’ll see more than just the bathtub.” He turned and left the room, chuckling.

  She tried to return to her dreaming, but Seth had ruined it for her. She finished bathing, stepped from the tub, and dried. Then she climbed into the big bed. As she drifted off to sleep, she remembered Seth’s eyes. Why had his gaze made her feel so warm?

  She was asleep when Seth returned to their room. He undressed quietly, and settled onto the couch.

  “Wake up. I thought you wanted to see the plantation.” Seth was shaking her gently.

  She stretched and smiled up at him. God! he thought. She looked like a cat, all grace in the early-morning light. As he looked at her, he began to feel his desire for her growing. “Either you get out of that bed, or I’m getting in with you.”

  She was startled by his tone and her eyes flew open. She rolled across the bed and climbed out the side farthest from him. As she ran toward the dressing room, she heard him mumble something about being a bull in the mornings. She couldn’t stifle a giggle as she slipped into the same gown she had worn the day before.

  She saw Seth’s frown as she stepped back into the bedroom. “If you will remember, it was you who told me to leave my clothes behind. This and my nightgown are my only articles of clothing.”

  He left the room and returned in a few minutes with a riding habit. “This is Jennifer’s. Try it on.”

  She returned in moments in the light-green whipcord habit. Jennifer was taller than Morgan, and weighed a great deal more. The outfit fit as poorly as the one her uncle had bought for her.

  Seth grimaced. “I guess it will have to do.”

  No one was up yet, even in the stables. Seth handed her a thick slice of bread covered with butter, and saddled the two horses for them. Morgan’s mare was gentle, and she was glad, because she did not feel up to fighting a horse.

  They rode in silence, both of them enjoying the cool March morning. After they had ridden for an hour, Seth slowed his horse. “This stream is the boundary of the Colter plantation. Let’s get down and I’ll show you a place where I used to play as a child.” He helped Morgan
down, seemingly unaware of his hands on her waist.

  “Give me your hand and we’ll cross over these rocks.” His hand was large, warm, and dry. After they had crossed the stream, he continued to hold her hand as they walked across the meadow. “I used to come here a lot. It seemed exciting, because it wasn’t on Colter land.”

  “Didn’t your sisters come?”

  “They were afraid to get dirty.”

  “At Trahern House there was a special place for me. It was a big, old, sycamore tree, set in a large open meadow. I trampled all the grasses down and made a large area under the tree, but no one could see me from a distance, because the grasses were above my head.” Her eyes shone.

  “I think I would have liked your place.”

  She laughed. “I never had brothers or sisters, so I never had anyone to show it to. Maybe I would have shown it to you.” She stopped, putting her hand over her mouth.

  “What is it?” He seemed alarmed.

  “Well, I just realized that when I was a child, you were a great, grown man already.”

  He laughed with her. “Yes, I guess I was. I’m fourteen years older than you, after all. I think I forget that you are the same age as my baby sister.”

  Morgan looked up at him, smiling, and squeezed his hand tighter. “I take that as a compliment.”

  Seth was overcome with an urge to kiss her, but the moment was lost as she saw a great black and orange butterfly and skipped ahead, pulling Seth with her.

  Damn it! Women were for kissing and dressing up like dolls, he thought, not for running around the wood together and talking about your childhood.

  He forgot his moment’s doubt as he saw the tree. It had at one time stood well away from the creek, but the water had washed the soil away, so that it now stood at the creek’s edge. The branches hanging over the stream made a roof above the clear water.

  “There it is.”

  Morgan saw the tree, and before he could say any more, she had dropped his hand and was scrambling down the bank to sit beneath the tree. She looked up at him cheerfully.

  He stood looking at her. There was dirt on the enormous skirt, and a smudge on her cheek.

  She realized what he was looking at. “I thought you already knew. I’m not a lady, and I never plan to be one. I am much happier here than at Cynthia Ferguson’s ball.”

  He laughed. “I like it better here, too.” He climbed down the bank to sit beside her.

  She seized the opportunity to clear things up. “Seth, I want to talk to you. Yesterday morning we quarreled about the way I wear my hair, and last night I was angry when I was taking a bath.” She paused, but he said nothing. She could feel him looking at her.

  “I want to keep our relationship on a friendship level. I don’t want us to quarrel. What I mean to say is that I want it clear between us that this is a marriage for convenience, a business arrangement.”

  “I understand. You do not want to share a bed with me.” His eyes were cold. “All right.” He looked at the tight hair, the baggy dress. “I believe I can refrain from molesting you. Is that what you are worried about?”

  She was hurt by his anger. “Yes, I guess it is.”

  “Then I give you my word that I will not at any time force my attention on you. Does that satisfy you?”

  She sighed. “Yes.”

  For Seth, the high mood of the day was broken. But for Morgan, it seemed an even brighter day. She was relieved. It seemed there would be no more fights between them.

  Seth’s gruff voice broke the silence. “Let’s go back.” He started toward the tethered horses.

  “Seth, wait!”

  He stopped, an impatient expression on his face.

  “Seth—” She put her hand on his forearm. “I didn’t mean to make you angry. I was trying to say that I want to be your friend. I don’t want to fight. Somehow, I seem to have made everything worse.”

  His anger left him and he smiled. “You’re right, little wife. I do have a quick temper. I apologize for my rudeness.” He removed his hat and made a bow.

  Morgan laughed. “I forgive you, sir.”

  “And to show my repentance, I shall ask Cook to prepare a picnic basket tomorrow, and we will go to my cabin—a pretty little place much farther upstream. Does that please you, my lady?”

  “Well, good sir, it does, except for one part.”

  A slight frown replaced Seth’s smile. “What part is that?”

  Morgan’s smile was winning. “That you allow me to prepare the picnic basket.”

  “You! You can cook?”

  “I’ll let you judge that tomorrow.”

  Seth returned Morgan’s smile. “It seems I got more than I bargained for. A wife who can cook! I hope Lupita doesn’t get jealous.”

  “Lupita?”

  “She’s my cook at the ranch in New Mexico.”

  “Tomorrow I want you to tell me about your ranch. I like being with animals.”

  They smiled at one another, returned to their horses, and rode back to the big house in a companionable silence.

  Just before dinner, Morgan heard the voices of her sisters-in-law.

  “Morgan, come look!” Jennifer’s plump face had broken into a very large smile. She pushed Morgan toward a table heaped with fabrics and trimmings. In spite of what Nora had told her daughters, all the fabrics were creams, pink, and pale blues. Nora was examining the things.

  “But, girls, I told you to get bright, clear colors. Morgan is too fair to wear these.”

  The three young women looked dismayed. Eleanor said timidly, “But, Mother, they are such beautiful colors.”

  Morgan felt the thin silks and satins. They would be totally unsuitable for New Mexico.

  “Well, I can see my little sisters have chosen well for a grueling trip to the New Mexico mountains.”

  Everyone turned to Seth. Jennifer tilted her head toward him. “Just because a lady has to travel to a forsaken land doesn’t mean she has to stop being a lady.”

  “Jennifer’s right,” Austine added. “When a lady wears silk, then she always remembers she is a lady.”

  “If a woman is a lady, then she is a lady no matter what she wears, including men’s trousers.”

  “Trousers!” Eleanor’s voice reflected disbelief. Deep down, she wasn’t sure her own plump legs would fit properly into a pair of men’s pants. The idea was appalling.

  The joking tone left Seth’s voice. “All right, sisters, since you have chosen completely inappropriate clothing for Morgan, then you must keep these fabrics for yourselves and supply her with some more suitable garments from your own wardrobes. She will need the sturdiest fabrics you can obtain.”

  Morgan could readily see that the idea of several new dresses did not displease the girls.

  Austine was the first to speak. “Morgan, let’s go upstairs and we’ll go through the chifforobe.”

  As the three sisters ushered Morgan upstairs, she turned a backward glance to Seth. He was looking at the pile of silks and brocade with an air of disgust. No wonder he thinks all women are silly, she thought.

  Two hours later, Morgan emerged from the girls’ bedrooms, totally exhausted. She had tried on dress after dress. No matter what she tried, it was huge on her. The sisters had wanted to start immediately on taking things in, adjusting them so they fit her snugly. Morgan had considered this for only a second. She knew that Seth gave her those special glances only when she had her hair down and she sensed that she would have an easier time holding him to his promise of the morning if her dresses fit loosely. She made excuses to her sisters-in-law, saying anything she could think of to persuade them not to alter the dresses.

  At the dinner table, Austine tried to enlist Seth’s help in getting Morgan to change her mind about taking in the dresses. But, much to her chagrin, Seth sided with Morgan.

  “I think my little wife is right. Tight dresses with heavy corsets”—the girls’ eyes widened; they wondered how their brother knew of ladies’ corsets—“are not s
uitable wear for long hours in the sun, sitting on a jolting wagon seat.”

  The matter seemed to be settled, and the conversation turned to other matters.

  After dinner, the family retired to the drawing room. As they began to occupy themselves, a groom came in to tell Seth and William that Susan was about to foal.

  Seth was on his feet in seconds. “No, Pa, this is mine. You stay and enjoy your brandy.” He looked at Morgan and hesitated, but only for a second. “Come on.”

  Her face showed her joy as she took his hand and they went quickly and silently to the barn.

  The mare, Susan, was lying down in the sweet-smelling straw, her breath heavy and rapid. As Seth assisted with the already-emerging colt, Morgan held the horse’s head and soothed her, speaking quietly and evenly.

  The birth was an easy one, but still the tension was great. Morgan knew Seth loved the pretty little mare, and that this colt was to be his. Seth helped the mare clean her colt and, within minutes, the little stallion was trying to stand.

  Morgan and Seth stood by and watched, laughing together at the colt’s clumsiness. When the colt began to nurse, they decided it was time to leave.

  As they stepped out of the warm barn into the cool night air, Morgan shivered. Without thinking, Seth put his arm around her shoulders and drew her to him, so that the sides of their bodies touched. Morgan started to draw away, but something in the casual way Seth had put his arm around her was reassuring.

  “You were good with the mare.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I think you’ll do well in New Mexico. There are many jobs like that one.”

  “I like being outside. Could we walk a few minutes before we go in?”

  Without a word, he led her around the barn and toward a grove of trees. “It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

  “Yes.”

  “How were my sisters this afternoon? Did their chattering bother you?”

  Morgan laughed. “Yes. They seemed very upset because clothing is not my passion.”

  Seth halted and swung Morgan around till she was in his arms. His voice was low. “Tell me something, Morgan. What is your all-consuming passion?”