Page 99 of The Enchanted Land

Seth was putting the saddle on his horse. “Jessy, I’ll owe you till the day I die. No matter what I do, I’ll never be able to repay you. Here.” He took a plump leather pouch from his saddle bag and handed it to her.

Jessy felt the bag and knew it contained gold dust and nuggets. “What’s this for? I don’t understand what I did—but I know what I’d like to do.” Seth’s good humor was infectious.

Seth swung onto his horse. “Jessy, it’s been a real pleasure knowing you.”

“Wait!” She ran after Seth and he stopped. “What did I do? You have to tell me.”

“My name’s not Blake, it’s Colter—Seth Colter.”

“Colter! You’re—you’reMorgan’s Seth? But you were supposed to be dead.”

“Morgan thought I was dead, but it takes a lot to kill me.” He laughed. “Morgan’s Seth. Lord, I hope you’re right. Goodbye, Jessy, and if you ever need help, come to Santa Fe, to the Colter ranch.” He reined his horse and started toward San Francisco.

“What about your gear? Your tent?” she called after him.

“It’s yours.”

Jessy stood and watched Seth until she could no longer see his broad back. “I’ll be damned. Morgan’s Seth. Who would’a thought he’d be alive.” She remembered the way Seth had looked at her. “No wonder she pined after him for so long. Lord! What I wouldn’t give to be her right now and have a man like that gallopin’ after me.”

She turned back to the barren camp and shrugged. Jessy was not a dreamer, and she did not spend time longing after something she could not have. The gold Seth had given her, the tent, and his panning gear were more than enough reward for her. “Imagine that—Morgan’s Seth,” she murmured as she entered Seth’s tent. It was good to have a place of her own.

Seth’s first impulse when he reached San Francisco was to break down Theron’s door. He laughed as he realized he’d already used cave-man tactics on Morgan. This time, he was going to go slowly. He would not push her. He was going to woo her, court her.

The first place he went was back to the little tailor who had made the suit for him two years ago.

Seth grinned broadly at the man.

“You certainly look nicer this time,” the tailor said. “Last time I was afraid to speak, afraid my head would be removed from my shoulders.”

“It might have been, too. Tell me, could you fit me with another suit?”

“Let me guess. You want it in three hours?”

“I think you and I are going to get along fine. You think this could hurry you along?” Seth dropped several gold coins on the table.

The tailor smiled at him. “Mr….”

“Colter.”

“Mr. Colter, it is a pleasure to do business with you. Let’s get on with the measurements.”

Later, when Seth was putting his rough cotton work clothes back on, the tailor said, “Mr. Colter, I am curious about something. When you were here before—what, a year and a half, two years ago?—you came in demanding a suit. Now it’s the same thing. I know this is all caused by a woman, but I’d like to know if it is a different woman this time or the same woman.”

Seth’s laughter filled the room. “It’s the same woman.” He picked up his hat and was nearly out the door when he turned back. “And the woman is my wife.”

The tailor laughed. It wasn’t often a man was so particular when the woman was his wife.

Seth went to a hotel, ordered a hot bath, and impatiently scrubbed weeks of dirt from his body. He marveled at himself. For the first time in two years, he was alive. He had admitted long ago how much he loved Morgan, but nothing could have lightened his spirit like finding out that Morgan had really always loved him.

Seth spent another hour at the barber’s and then got his suit from the tailor. “Good luck,” the man called after Seth.

By the time Seth reached Theron’s house, he was shaking. Damn! he thought. I’m like a bridegroom on his wedding night. Would Morgan slam the door in his face? A butler answered the door.

“I’d like to see Mr. Shaw, please.”

The butler appraised him, and Seth seemed to stand up under his scrutiny. “If you will wait inside, sir, I’ll see if Mr. Shaw is in.”

Seth waited in the spacious hallway. So this is what Morgan had been living in for the past two and a half years! It was a far cry from the adobe house on his ranch. He was glad he had some money now, glad he could give her things like this.

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