The Enchanted Land Read online

  JUDE

  DEVERAUX

  The

  Enchanted

  Land

  Dedication

  for CLAUDE—who gave me the time to write

  Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  MORGAN stared at the ugly brown dress spread across the…

  Chapter Two

  “MORGAN, Morgan!” Uncle Horace’s voice reached them in the garden.

  Chapter Three

  “MORGAN.” Seth’s voice was close to her ear. “Get dressed…

  Chapter Four

  THERE was one more day before they left. Morgan regretted…

  Chapter Five

  EVERYONE told Morgan that the first part of the trip…

  Chapter Six

  “JAKE, what’s a whore?”

  Chapter Seven

  THAT night Morgan lay in the wagon, half asleep, pictures…

  Chapter Eight

  THEY rode all night. Morgan snuggled against Seth and slept…

  Chapter Nine

  THEY spent four days in the canyon of the ancient…

  Chapter Ten

  THE Montoya ranch was enormous. The main house itself could…

  Chapter Eleven

  WHEN Seth left the Montoya party, he rode hard for…

  Chapter Twelve

  JAKE had been riding for three days when he first…

  Chapter Thirteen

  IT took the little band—the Indians, the Frenchman, and the…

  Chapter Fourteen

  AFTER three days of hard riding, they arrived in San…

  Chapter Fifteen

  THE Chandlers had already had a long, hard trip from…

  Chapter Sixteen

  “REMEMBER, if you ever need anything, just look us up,”…

  Chapter Seventeen

  “FRANK, you must stay to help us celebrate Señora Colter’s…

  Chapter Eighteen

  “HEY, mister, watch where you’re goin’!” The man, one eye…

  Chapter Nineteen

  MORGAN was happily surprised by the ranch house of the…

  Chapter Twenty

  IT was the day of the party when Gordon saw…

  Chapter Twenty-One

  BREAKFAST had begun before Morgan entered the room.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  IT had been a little over two weeks since Seth…

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  WHEN Morgan woke, the house was quiet. As she stretched…

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  WHEN Morgan awoke on the cot, Adam was still sleeping.

  About the Author

  Other Books by Jude Deveraux

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  When they were apart

  it was a wilderness.

  When they were together

  it was…

  The

  Enchanted

  Land

  The story of a woman

  who could not be conquered,

  a love that was never forsaken,

  and a land that will not be forgotten.

  Chapter One

  MORGAN stared at the ugly brown dress spread across the bed. She shivered. Remembering again what she must do tonight, she turned slowly and gazed wistfully into the mirror, seeing without interest her pale hair and blue eyes. She tried cocking her head and smiling. But no … she wasn’t pretty, and she was sure she never would be.

  She turned quickly as a knock sounded and her uncle strode in. He was a short, portly man, given to excess at the table. He smiled at her and reached out to touch her chin. She turned her head away.

  “What do you want?” she asked coldly.

  “Is everything all right? How is your packing coming?”

  “Fine.” She kept her face averted.

  He looked around the room at the closed trunks and, finally, at the brown silk dress on the bed. He touched the silk lightly.

  “Why don’t you rest before we leave for the ball? You have a few hours yet.”

  She didn’t answer, and he turned and left the room, closing the door behind him quietly.

  Morgan removed her dress and replaced it with a plain dressing gown. She lay down but she couldn’t sleep. Instead, she found herself going over it all yet again.

  The problems had started before she was born. Both her father and her mother had been brought up to the life of wealthy plantation owners in southern Kentucky. But her father had wanted to venture out, to seek the hardships and challenges of the frontier.

  After her parents’ marriage, the young couple had moved to New Mexico. Morgan was born there. Her mother had nearly died in childbirth. The baby was early, and it was a full eighteen hours before her husband could bring a midwife to his wife. Morgan had heard many times from her mother of the horror and pain she went through all alone. Being a lady, she would not allow any of the ranch hands in the room.

  When Morgan was a year old, her mother and she returned to Kentucky. Her mother had refused to bring up her daughter in savage New Mexico. There had been many an argument between her parents, and her father had said that if his wife took their child and left him, he never wanted to see either of them again. And that’s the way it had been: she had not seen her father in seventeen years.

  Her mouth hardened as she realized that he had his revenge now. In death, he was punishing his wife through his daughter.

  She tried to keep her mind off the reading of the will, just two weeks ago, that horrible will that had led to her decision about tonight.

  She turned her head toward the door when she heard a light knock, smiling at her aunt’s voice.

  As Lacey entered, Morgan couldn’t help but think how well the older woman’s name fit her. Lacey was small and frail, as if she might break. She reminded Morgan of a starched and crocheted doily.

  “Hello, dear. Are you feeling all right? I imagine you’re excited about tonight.”

  Aunt Lacey was always so sweet. She assumed that, since Morgan was young, she must be excited about going to the ball. And Morgan would have been, too, if the circumstances were different. She gazed at the nondescript brown dress, which she had pushed to one side of the bed, and Lacey’s eyes followed hers.

  Lacey walked around the bed, touched the silk, and said gently, “Brown isn’t really your color, is it, my dear?”

  Morgan fought the urge to throw back her head and laugh hysterically. “It’s all right, Aunt Lacey. I don’t mind. I could have a Paris gown and it wouldn’t matter. Nothing could make me pretty, just as Uncle Horace says.”

  Lacey’s eyes were sad. She moved around the room to sit beside Morgan on the bed. She looked at her niece closely. “I know Horace says you’re not pretty.”

  “My mother said so too.”

  “But I can’t help thinking that if you wore brighter clothes and didn’t hide your hair … you know you have lovely hair.” She ran a finger down Morgan’s cheek. “And such lovely skin.” She paused. “I really feel, dear, that if you smiled more, you would be much more attractive.”

  Morgan grimaced. Her aunt had often told her that if she looked happier and were a little bit livelier, she would be pretty. Morgan smiled faintly at what her mother would say about her aunt’s encouraging Morgan to make herself more “attractive.” Attractive indeed—like a flower enticing bees.

  Seeing Morgan smile, Lacey patted her hand. “That’s better, dear.” She rose to leave, pausing with her hand on the door. “Could I help you dress, or help with your hair?”

  “No, thank you, Aunt Lacey. I think I may sleep awhile.”

  “Good. I’ll wake you in an hour.”

  The door closed, and Morgan was alone again. She lay bac