The Enchanted Land

by Jude Deveraux

  The man with the red face laughed. “Of course, he did get to keep the wallpaper.”

  “That’s all he got, though. He sure didn’t get anything else.”

  Again, the explosive laughter.

  “The smartest thing that pretty boy ever did was buy the little lady from Madame Nicole. My wife loves that fella, but I never could abide him. He’s so pretty. I thought he belonged on the mantelpiece instead of walking around. But with that sweet little Morgan, he can spend all the time he wants at my house. Course it sure costs me a lot for the opportunity of lookin’ at her.”

  “Hey, mister, we say somethin’ to interest you?” The man’s tone was slightly belligerent.

  Seth smiled, slow and easy. “I was just listening. Heard the name Morgan. Used to know a girl named Morgan.”

  “Come set down with us and tell us about your Morgan. I can’t believe there could be another woman like San Francisco’s Morgan Colter.”

  Seth tried to hide his emotions. It was Morgan! And the little bitch had the gall to use his name. You’d think she’d at least use another name. “Seth… Blake’s my name.” The three men introduced themselves—Charley Farrell, Joe Beal, and Arthur Johnston.

  The red-faced man was Joe. “Our Morgan’s a real beauty. A little blond thing, big blue eyes and a bodywooeee.” He grinned and looked to the other two men for agreement.

  “Couldn’t be the Morgan I knew. The one I knew was probably not as pretty as your horse.” He grinned and took a sip of his beer. “This Morgan of yours sure sounds like something. What’s the chances of getting a, shall we say, private showing?”

  The three men all started to talk at once and Charley quieted them. He leaned back in his chair. “Well, Mister Blake, this little gal comes real high. I mean real high.” He gave furious looks to the other two men to quiet their protests. “You see, she used to work at Madame Nicole’s place, a real classy cathouse. You practically have to show your teeth along with a carriage full of gold just to go look at one of Madame Nicole’s shows. Well, this little Morgan was the star at Madame Nicole’s place—used to go on stage and have two girls undress her for everybody to see. Of course, that was a special-invitation show only.” Again he gave warning looks to the two other men, both of whom were staring, open-mouthed, wondering at this fantastic story.

  “Now she’s left Nicole’s and works for this blond feller. He’s so pretty, and he looks like Morgan. They’re a real pair, struttin’ around town, goin’ to the opera. Well, as I was sayin’, this little lady is expensive. She and this feller sell you things for your house. If you’ve got enough money and buy enough stuff for your house, you get a little extra on the side. You know what I mean?”

  Seth managed a smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I guess I do know what you mean.”

  Charley continued. “Art, here, just finished decorating a whole house, and it was a real pleasure, wasn’t it?”

  Arthur nodded, silently.

  “See, me and Joe are still workin’ on our houses. So far, I’ve only spent three thousand dollars, and that ain’t near enough for me to enjoy it yet.”

  Art coughed nervously. “You come to try your luck in the gold fields, Mr. Blake?”

  Seth drained his beer. “Yes, I think I will.” He turned back to Charley. “Whereabouts does this Morgan live?”

  Charley could hardly contain his laughter. “Boy, you won’t have a chance dressed like that. Even at Madame Nicole’s she wouldn’t entertain no goldminer. You need fancy duds like these.” He gave Seth directions to Theron’s house and Seth left the saloon.

  Charley waited until the big man was out of the building before he allowed his laughter to escape. “The man’ll try everything to get her. He’ll see her and think she’s for sale and…” He realized the other two men weren’t sharing in his laughter.

  “Come on, men. Don’t you see the joke? Can’t you see ol’ Theron’s face when that big dumb cowboy makes an offer for his little jewel?”

  “Charley, Miss Colter is a lady, and you know about Nicole’s sales. Morgan Colter didn’t entertain in no whorehouse and you know it. I don’t care about the cowboy, but if Morgan or Theron heard, they could do us damage.”

  “And besides, I like the little gal. She’s a nice lady, and she keeps to herself. And nobody’s even seen the inside of her room, even though everybody’s tried.”

  “Oh, hell! Can’t a man have a little joke? I was only funnin’ the man.” He finished his beer. “Let’s get out of here. Charlotte’s got Morgan and her pretty boy comin’ to tea and she wants me there.” He looked at the other two reproachfully. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

  Seth’s senses were reeling. She was here! She was in San Francisco. A real classy cathouse, the man had said. Did she leave Montoya, or did he get tired of her?

  Without conscious thought, he followed the man’s directions to Theron’s house. He stood staring at it for a long time before he saw the door open.

  “Theron, shouldn’t we take some of the upholstery samples? Charlotte may want to change her mind about that awful brocade.”

  “Morgan, will you never learn? That woman would never change her mind, not unless you held a gun on her. We could try that, couldn’t we? ‘Lady, either you pick what we say, or you die,’” he mocked. “How’s that?”

  “Oh, Theron, sometimes I wish we could. What is it with these people and purple?” She was smiling and turned in Seth’s direction an instant before he disappeared around a building.

  Her knees gave way and she grabbed Theron’s arm for support.

  “Morgan, what is it? Jarvis, go to the Farrells’ and tell them Morgan is ill, that we can’t make it.” Theron picked Morgan up and carried her upstairs to her room.

  Seth watched from the street, his rage mounting by the second. He turned and left the area.

  “Seth. It was Seth, Theron. I saw Seth.”

  “But Morgan, Seth is dead. It must have been someone who looked like him.”

  “Theron!” Her eyes blazed. “It was Seth. He’s alive. I have to find him.” She started up from the bed.

  “Not now you don’t. I don’t like your color. Jeannette, get Morgan some tea.” He looked at Jeannette knowingly and she nodded.

  “Theron, you have to understand. There is a reason that I have to find him now, without delay. He may hate me. He may think I left him for another man. He was told I did.”

  “How could he believe that? Morgan, you don’t realize how much you talk about that man. I’d really like to meet him, because I’m sure he has a golden halo and his feet are supported by little clouds. If something is good … anything—art, food, wallpaper paste—you compare it to Seth. If it’s bad, then it’s not like Seth.”

  “Theron, please!” She looked at him in desperation.

  “Here’s your tea.” Again, he and Jeannette exchanged looks. “Drink this and then we’ll talk about finding your Seth.”

  Morgan sipped at the tea and then, at Theron’s urging, drained her cup.

  “Now, let’s go.” She swung her legs off the bed, then put her hand to her forehead.

  “Theron! You put something in the tea. How am I going to find Seth? How am I… He hates me…”

  “She’s asleep. Good.”

  “Mr. Shaw, what’s wrong with her? I’ve never seen her so upset. Do you think she really saw her husband?”

  “I don’t know, but I plan to make a few inquiries while she sleeps. A man with sandals and a white robe should be easy enough to find, don’t you think?”

  “Sandals?” Jeannette looked puzzled and then smiled. “Mr. Shaw! You shouldn’t say things like that.”

  “If she wakes up, try to keep her calm. I’ll be back soon.”

  Theron spent the afternoon and part of the evening trying to find Seth. He knew very little about him except that he was large. The bartender at one saloon seemed to remember a man like that, but he wasn’t sure. Two wagon trains had arrived in San Francisco that day and
he’d been pretty busy. It was well into the night when Theron returned home.

  Morgan met him at the door, but she knew from his face that he’d been unsuccessful. She sank to her knees, dissolving into tears. “Seth. Seth.” Her cries were close to hysteria.

  Theron held her, rocking her gently. In the five months they had lived together, they had become very close. Theron thought of Morgan as his little sister. He enjoyed teasing her and, at times, protecting her.

  “Morgan, sweet, don’t cry. We’ll find him. If we have to turn the town upside down, we’ll find him. I’ll send men into the gold fields to look for him. Whatever it takes, we’ll find him. Now, please calm yourself. I can’t stand to see you cry.”

  When Morgan couldn’t stop her tears, built from months of loneliness and longing, Theron carried her back to bed.

  “Morgan, please, I’m getting too old to keep climbing those stairs,” he teased. Morgan’s unresponsiveness sobered him. “If you’ll rest, I’ll go out again and look for him. Now.”

  Theron left her, worried about the frantic look in her eyes.

  It took Seth only a few seconds and the flash of some gold to get the little tailor’s promise to have a suit altered in a few hours.

  It was night when he left the shop. No longer did he fit in with the tired, dirty prospectors in from the East. The charcoal gray suit and white shirt set off his hair and tanned skin.

  His long strides took him to the rather quiet, unassuming house on First Street. A carriage pulled up and two men went to the door. A tall butler opened it, smiled, and ushered the gentlemen in.

  Seth knocked on the door. The butler looked him over carefully. “Yes?”

  “I am new to San Francisco, just arrived today, and I heard that some enjoyment might be had at Madame Nicole’s.”

  “Just a moment, sir, and I will see.” He closed the door. Within moments it reopened and Seth saw an enormous woman with beautiful black hair.

  “Madame Nicole, of course.” Seth bowed slightly. His eyes raked over her, making her feel as beautiful as her vanity allowed. “Seth Blake at your service, ma’am.”

  “Well, Mr. Blake, Edwards tells me you’d like to visit my humble establishment.”

  He smiled at her, showing deep dimples.

  “Mr. Blake, I declare you can certainly charm a girl.” Her eyes swept down his massive chest. “I believe I just may keep you for myself.” She possessively took his arm and led him into the large drawing room.

  “Will you be in town long, Mr. Blake?”

  “I’m not sure yet. I have a ranch in New Mexico. I thought I might try my hand in the gold fields.”

  She led him to a table covered with various hors d’oeuvres and wines. When Seth refused refreshment, she asked him more questions.

  “Tell me, Mr. Blake, what would interest you tonight? Nicole has a wide variety of beautiful young women.”

  “Well, I saw one today that interested me. I believe she once worked for you—a little blonde, blue eyes. I believe she now works with an importer?”

  “Ah, Morgan,” Nicole smiled. “She was here for a while, yes. But she was sold right away.”

  “Sold?”

  “Yes, twice a year I have a sale of beautiful young women. The highest bidder wins the lady. Morgan was the most beautiful woman yet offered in San Francisco.”

  Nicole did not see the muscles clenching and unclenching in Seth’s jaw. He had hoped it wasn’t true, that the men had lied. “So she did work here then?”

  Nicole did not want to tell the handsome and possibly rich young man that she had never had such a beautiful girl work for her. Her reputation might suffer.

  “Yes, I have many beautiful young women working for me. Let me show you a few.” She clapped her plump hands and three women in thin, nearly transparent gowns entered the room.

  Nicole had been around men for many years and could sense their needs. Something was troubling this young man, something deeper than simple need for a woman. He hardly looked at these. Nicole raised her hand and dismissed them.

  “Seth, I don’t know you, but I think I know your problem. You’re in love.”

  Seth raised one mocking eyebrow.

  “Go to her. Tell her you love her. Take her by force if you need to, but let her know how you feel.”

  Let Morgan know how he felt! Yes, he’d tell her. He tell her how much he hated her. He smiled. “Yes, I think you are right. Goodnight, Madame Nicole.”

  Nicole laughed when he was gone. She wished she were that young woman. It would be wonderful to hold that man in her arms.

  Jeannette blew out the light in Morgan’s room, glad to have finally gotten her to sleep. She closed the door quietly and went downstairs to her own room.

  Seth made no sound as he opened the French doors and stepped into the room. Even by moonlight the beauty of the room was obvious. He walked to the dresser and touched her brush and comb, taking his time making his way to the bed.

  Her hair was spread all around her and tangled in one fist. She made a little hiccough as she slept, as if she had been crying.

  He reached out a hand and touched a golden tress with one finger. It was so soft. He hadn’t remembered how soft her hair was. She moved, kicking the covers below her waist. She had on a satin gown of deep, rich apricot. The ties were loose in front and the fabric gaped open to expose the soft curve of her breast.

  Too many things flashed before him: Morgan sunning herself on a rock in the canyon, Morgan cooking his breakfast and then sitting in his lap to feed it to him.

  And then the note. Those few words, telling him she loved Joaquín.

  Seth’s eyes lost their softness. He put out his hands to clasp her neck, but then stopped. He had loved her, loved her from the first. He had stood back while she made up her mind whether she wanted to be a woman or not. He had waited and watched, for a long time. He had killed three men for her. Cat Man and his two cohorts had been sitting peacefully by their campfire. He had not even given them a chance to go for their guns. He had killed them and ridden away. For her!

  He began removing his jacket. When he had removed all his clothes, he lifted the light blanket and climbed into bed with Morgan.

  Gently, he began caressing her soft breast. He brought his lips to hers, barely touching their sweetness, then delicately nibbling at her lower lip. In her sleep, Morgan felt the longed-for touch of Seth. She moved against him, parting her lips. The tip of his tongue traced the outline of her lips.

  His kisses traced a sensuous path across her cheek to her earlobe. His teeth nipped the tender piece of flesh. “Morgan,” he whispered. She nuzzled closer to him. “Mi querida.” Her eyes opened slowly, languidly, her arms going up to encircle his broad shoulders.

  She opened her eyes fully and then opened her mouth to scream. Seth silenced her lips with his own. Her eyes were wild and she began to struggle.

  Quickly, he put his fingers over her lips. “Don’t you know your husband?”

  She looked at him with astonishment for one long moment and then tears rushed to her eyes. “Seth. I knew it was you. I knew. Oh, Seth! What happened?” She pulled him to her. “Seth, I love you. I love you so much.” She couldn’t see his jaw clench, his eyes freeze. “Seth … did Joaquín finally admit that he—”

  His hand covered her mouth. His eyes were dark with passion. “Later, sweet. Later you can tell me all about it.”

  Doubt flickered a warning in her mind. But he was so urgent.

  “Have you missed me? Did you think about me?” His hands moved across her body, making her ache with longing. Her arms pulled him closer and she arched against him.

  “Yes, oh yes,” she whispered into his ear as she kissed it, pulling the earlobe between her lips.

  “You’re eager for me, aren’t you, Morgan?” Again, she had the awful feeling, the doubt. What was strange about Seth?

  He removed her gown. Her body screamed for him to take her. His caresses were tantalizing, making her lose her senses. It
was as if she were only a body, only desire.

  His lips traveled down her neck, the weight of his body pressing on her. Her fingers pulled him closer. He felt her urgency and this made his kisses even slower.

  “Seth, Seth,” she moaned over and over.

  His lips traveled down her body, across her breasts, one hand holding hers to keep her clutching fingers still, the other softly kneading her inner thigh. His lips traveled down and down, touching all of her.

  When he reached her feet, he kissed each of her toes, raking the soft fleshy part against his lower teeth. “Please, Seth, now, now.”

  Abruptly, he turned her over, his teeth and tongue and lips making a trail across her smooth, perfect skin.

  When he reached her neck, he turned her over and began to make love to her. He kept his lips on hers to still her loud moans. They reached their peaks together.

  They lay quietly for a moment, wrapped in ecstasy. Their bodies were one, and inseparable.

  Seth moved to lie beside her. He kissed her neck, her eyelids.

  Morgan’s body was on fire. Her fingertips were extremely sensitive, the nerves wonderfully alive. They sought Seth’s body, searching the length of his broad back, feeling each muscle and the texture of his skin. She kissed his neck, running her tongue along the muscles, the sinews.

  Her fingers entangled in the hair on his chest, her lips following the sensitive path of her fingers. Her hands found his maleness and lingered, gently stroking until she heard low sounds from Seth’s throat.

  She climbed on top of him and this time, slowly, they came to new heights of desire and finally collapsed in one another’s arms, sated.

  Content, Morgan slept, her cheek against Seth’s chest, the hairs tickling her nose. Seth’s low voice woke her from the first happy sleep she had had in many months.

  “Did you do this with the men at Madame Nicole’s?”

  “Mmmm?” she snuggled closer to him. Seth was here, alive and in her arms. She kissed his chest.

  “Was Joaquín a good lover? Did he make your hips move and your hands claw?”