Page 113 of The Enchanted Land

Gordon turned to see Dave riding toward him. Adam was slumped against the big man, his head down. Gordon sighed and wondered if he’d ever get used to the boy’s preference for Dave.

“Gordon, I think you’d better take Adam back to his mother. It looks like two days in the saddle in a row are too much for him.”

“Pull that rope a little tighter or you’ll lose him. I can’t go right now; I need to stay here. I don’t think Morgan’s at the house, but I guess Carol can take care of him. Wait a minute! Morgan should be at the stream. Why don’t you take Adam and leave him with her? It’s closer.”

Gordon gave him directions. He hoped that, if Morgan got to know Dave better, she’d like him.

Seth stopped on top of the ridge and looked down at his wife. Her head rested on one arm and the other was sprawled, palm up, across an open book. How could she possibly be anyone’s mother? She looked only about six years old herself.

Carefully, Seth dismounted and picked Adam up. He secured his horse and walked quietly toward Morgan. He put Adam on the quilt on one side of his mother and then sat down on the other side. Adam turned onto his stomach. Just like his mother, Seth thought.

Seth wanted to stretch out beside her, take her in his arms. But he’d lost that privilege. He smiled at Adam. At least his son harbored no ill will toward him.

Seth tentatively touched a lock of golden hair, then stopped as he realized her eyes were open and staring at him. There was hostility in them, and wariness. His heart ached. How could he have caused such a look?

“I brought Adam.” He nodded to the sleeping child on her other side. “He was too tired from yesterday to last today. Gordon told me where you were. I hope you don’t mind my disturbing your peace.”

Adam stirred. He rubbed his eyes and then went to his mother. She sat cross-legged, now, staring at Seth. Adam sat ungracefully in her lap. He looked up at Seth and smiled. “Da da.”

Morgan was startled.

“He’s probably trying to say ‘Dave.’”

Morgan looked at Seth in total distrust, knowing he’d probably been teaching Adam to say “Daddy.”

“Thank you for bringing him to me.” She looked away, her heart pounding.

“Eat!” Adam saw the picnic basket. “Chi’en.”

Morgan laughed. “I believe that’s supposed to mean chicken. He learns new words every day, but sometimes it’s not easy to understand them.” She watched as Adam dug into the basket. He squealed when he found that he wanted. With great pride he displayed a chicken wing, a trophy.

Morgan avoided Seth’s eyes. “Most children’s first words are ‘Mama’ and ‘no,’ but Adam’s first word was ‘eat’ In fact, I don’t believe he’s ever learned to say ‘no.’ ”

Finally she turned to him. His eyes were gentle. She felt her throat tighten. He turned toward Adam.

“I can’t imagine a better word than ‘eat.’ ”

Adam turned to Seth. He liked conversations with his favorite word. He handed Seth his prized chicken wing and beamed at him. “Eat.”

“It seems you’ve passed the test, if Adam is willing to share his food with you.”

Seth smiled, a delighted smile that Morgan often saw on Adam. “I’m glad to pass his test.” There was a slight emphasis on “his.”

She looked away. It was still too painful to be so near him. She would be glad of the time when he was just another man to her, when she could look at him and not remember how it was to kiss his neck, his eyes. “I guess you’ll have to stay for lunch. Adam seems to want you, and he tends to be rather spoiled. He makes a fuss when he doesn’t get what he wants.”

Seth’s eyes grew sad. Adam sometimes used the same trick on her to get what he wanted. She always melted when he looked like that.

“I’m glad Adam wants me.”

She wanted to scream at him. Why did he play this politeness game? Why didn’t he tell her what he wanted from her and then leave her in peace?

Seth opened the picnic basket and Adam made a grab for the tin flask held by his father.

“Say what you want, Adam.”

Adam’s eyes gleamed. “Milk.”

Morgan had to laugh. “It’s just as I thought. He probably knows the English language better than I do. He’s just too lazy to say the words. I’m glad someone else forces him to talk.”

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