Page 128 of The Enchanted Land

“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

WHENMorgan 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 want 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?

“Seth.” She began to push him away. The alarm blocked out all passion. “Seth! Where’s Adam?”

“He’s probably still asleep,” he whispered into her ear. His hand was on her body, stroking the soft curve of her hip.

“No. Adam never sleeps late, at least not in his own room. I have to go see. Something’s wrong.”

Seth drew back and stared down into her face. He saw the concern, the fear. He started to tell her how silly she was, but he stopped. He’d have the rest of his life to talk about Adam. Right now she needed reassurance. “Well, go then. And then you can come back here. Better yet, I’ll go with you and then I’ll make sure you come back with me.” He held her close to him as they went to Adam’s room. “I don’t plan to let you out of my room for at least two weeks. Adam can pound on the door for hours, but I need you more than he does. See,” they stood in the child’s doorway, “he looks like a little cherub.”

Morgan frowned. Adam was too peaceful. Something was wrong. Every morning Carol had to remake Adam’s bed from the sheets up because he tore everything off during the night. This morning the light quilt was still tucked in, not in its usual place on the floor. Quickly, she crossed the room and smoothed his hair from his forehead. His face was hot, very hot.

Her face drained of color and she turned to Seth. Instantly, he was beside his son, his large hands holding the boy’s head. His neck was swollen and his skin was almost burning. Adam whimpered at his father’s touch. Seth’s face held the same look as Morgan’s. “I’ll get the doctor.” His voice was harsh, reflecting a depth of fear he’d never known before.

Minutes later, Morgan heard him running down the stairs, and then there were the sounds of a horse’s hooves.

Morgan was numb. She dropped to her knees and took her son’s little hand. It was so dry and so very, very hot. Adam had never been sick. He couldn’t be sick. He was too little to bear pain. “Adam, sweetheart,” she whispered as she held the listless little hand to her cheek.

Adam’s eyelids fluttered. “Mama.” His voice was rough, barely audible. He swallowed and his eyes screwed up tightly as he tried to stand the pain.

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