Page 60 of The Enchanted Land

Her eyes holding his, she asked, “Where are you taking us? Why have you kidnapped me?”

Still holding her hair, the Frenchman laughed, a deep, rumbling laugh. “I don’t like my women so thin, but with your eyes and hair a man could be tempted.” He moved his face closer to Morgan’s, and she instinctively moved back. “You ask me questions. I will answer them,ma petite. I dealt in furs for a while, but that is hard work. I met Madame Nicole and we worked out our business arrangement. I bring her pretty young women, and she pays me for them.” He smiled at Morgan’s shock.

“You can’tsellpeople!”

“Oh, but I can, little one. Madame Nicole finds unwilling women often please her customers more than the ones who readily agree to their whims. Bah! There are no real men left in this new country. I do not need to fight a woman to prove I am a man.

“One thing … do not tempt me to anger, pretty one. Madame Nicole will pay me well for such a one as you. I would not like to lose the money.” Abruptly, he left her alone to stare after him.

“I thought as much.” Jessy was standing beside her. “I’ve heard of some of these houses in San Francisco. A girl can live in luxury there.”

Morgan turned to stare at Jessy. The events of the last few days were suddenly too much for her. Blindly, she began to run. She stumbled over dogs that ripped at her, but she hardly noticed. There was only one thought in her mind, one overwhelming desire—to escape, to get away from her captors. Reason had left her.

She halted as Mary caught up to her, jerking her arm painfully. “Morgan! Stop it! Look around you. You can’t escape—they’ll kill you first.” Mary’s fingers bit into the flesh of Morgan’s upper arms. “Look at me and listen. This is not the way to escape. How long do you think you could survive in this land?”

“I don’t care. I just want to get away. Even if it means my death, I can’t face going on without Seth. I can’t face what they have planned for us. I cannot.”

Mary’s eyes were hard. “Of course, you can face it. No matter what they do, we are still alive, and we need to survive.”

Morgan’s eyes had a faraway look as the tears quietly rolled down her cheeks. “Do you know what they plan to do with us? They plan to sell us as whores. Whores! Did you know that a few months ago I didn’t even know what that word meant? Now I am to become one! That’s funny, isn’t it?”

Her voice grew louder. “Five weeks ago I was a virgin. Now…” She began to laugh loudly.

Mary looked up to see the Indians surrounding them, pointing at Morgan. Behind them she saw Jacques making his way over to them, an angry scowl on his face. She began to shake Morgan. “Stop it! Stop it! You’ll cause more trouble if you call attention to yourself. Now come into the wickiup.”

Morgan followed Mary, and the older woman was relieved to see the Frenchman turn and walk away from them.

In the hut, Mary turned to Morgan. “Why don’t you help her?” she asked, nodding toward the girl Alice. “Jessy and me can’t seem to get through to her. Maybe if you help someone else a little, you won’t be so wrapped up in yourself.”

Quietly, Morgan sat by the unseeing girl. Mary was right. She was not the only one here. She took Alice’s limp hand into her lap.

“I sometimes think that if I cry enough or if I wish hard enough, I’ll open my eyes and this’ll all be gone. Then I’ll be home with… Seth.” The name brought fresh tears to Morgan’s eyes.

“Do you know how I got here?” Morgan continued. “A neighbor, a friend, wanted me to sleep with him. I said no, so he killed my husband and paid Jacques to take me. All my life my mother told me men were horrible, wicked creatures who cared little about women. Then I met Seth. I fought my feelings for him for a long time, but then I realized how much I loved him. Seth is … was … the most handsome man imaginable. He was so gentle and so good. Everyone on the ranch loved him. He even had some old dogs who were so lazy they wouldn’t even bark until a stranger was practically inside the house. Seth was too kind-hearted to get rid of them.”

She stopped talking. Alice was staring at her, tears glistening in her soft brown eyes. Morgan put her arm around the girl and pulled her head to her shoulder.

There was only two years’ difference in their ages, but Morgan felt old enough to be Alice’s mother. They sat in silence for a while, and then Alice began to talk, very quietly.

“My father went to the gold fields and said he’d send for us when he struck it rich. But after he left, my mother said she couldn’t live without him, so we packed up and started west. We were going to join a wagon train in Santa Fe, but we never got that far. There were four wagons. They … they killed everyone, all the men. They took Mother and me with them.

“When we got to the camp, Jacques tore our clothes off. He had an Indian hold me while they … while they…” She couldn’t finish her sentence and buried her head against Morgan’s soft shoulder. After a few minutes, she began again. “They made me watch. She told me she loved me just before she died.”

Morgan stroked the girl’s brown hair. “We must stay alive.”

“Why? So they can do to us what they did to my mother?”

“I don’t know, Alice. I thought I wanted to die, but my life must be worth something. I know Seth wouldn’t want me to die. I know that if he were here, he’d tell me to live … no matter what.”

The days turned into weeks. They traveled every day. The trip from Kentucky to Santa Fe had been luxurious compared to travel with the Indians. Morgan learned much about the Frenchman’s Apache followers, a rugged group. The women took care of all the work on the trail, putting up the shabby grass huts each night and tending to the food. One of the Indian women, Little Flower, had a new baby strapped to her back, bound onto a cradle board.

After the one attempt to touch Morgan, the Indians left the four white captives alone. The captives were given dried meat and roots that the Indian women gathered on the long, grueling trip.

Morgan took over the cooking for the four of them. Little Flower, who was about the same age as Morgan, showed her how to grind corn and cook it on top of the stews made from the game the men caught. Gradually, they began to understand one another through signs and a few words exchanged in the two languages.

At the night camp, Little Flower took her son from his cradle board and let him play on a blanket while she cooked. Morgan gestured to Little Flower to ask if she could hold the child.

“What are you doing with that heathen child?”

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