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  “Oh, yes, Seth mentioned your father. What was his name? Maybe I knew him.”

  “Charles Wakefield. He had a ranch somewhere around Albuquerque, I believe.”

  Joaquín listened carefully. Seth was on watch, and Jake was on the other side of the wagons.

  “Charley Wakefield!” Frank nearly shouted, and then quieted his voice. “I knew your father—no wonder I liked you from the moment I saw you. Your father was a hell of a man. It really made me sad to hear he’d left us. Seems like a lot of the good ones die young.” He looked at Morgan with a puzzled expression. “I always wondered why Charley never married.”

  Morgan had never heard her father mentioned in favorable terms before, and she wanted to hear more. She stared at the fire. “Tell me what he was like.”

  “He was a good man and a hard worker. I didn’t know him until he’d been around for some time, but I heard he built up his ranch from practically nothing. It’d take a man a week to ride the borders of his land.” Frank smiled. “I worked as a hand for him some years ago. Charley wasn’t like most of those rich boys; he joined right in and worked alongside us. He could rope a steer with the best of ’em.” Frank stared at the fire in silence. Then he added, “Sure never heard him mention a wife or little girl, though.”

  “My mother took me back to Kentucky when I was very young.” Morgan’s response was stiff. It was difficult to feel kinship with a man who had made her marry and leave her home against her will.

  Frank sensed Morgan’s hostility and wondered about it. “You sure missed a lot by not living out here. This country’s got more excitement in one day than the East has in a year.”

  A bit later on that night, she slipped to the side of camp to sit on a rock and stare at the stars. Joaquín’s voice startled her.

  “There are no stars in the East like there are out here, are there?”

  “No, I guess not. But it seems a high price to pay for stars.”

  Joaquín smiled, his teeth white in the moonlight.

  “I was raised out here. To me the East is too unchanging. There is no surprise, no adventure.”

  “You have a ranch, too, like Seth’s?”

  Joaquín chuckled, and there was a tone of contempt in his voice. “I have a ranch, yes, but not like the Colter one. The Montoya ranch is several times larger than his, and it has been in my family for generations.”

  “Do you live there alone?”

  “No,” Joaquín answered, “I live with my sister, Lena.” When one of his riders had told him about Lena and Colter, he had wanted to kill her. All she had done was laugh at him. He had vowed then to avenge himself on Colter one day.

  “Tell me, Morgan, do you hate our West so much?” His voice had a slyness that Morgan missed.

  “Yes!” was her vehement answer. “I hate this dust and the constant danger and … and…” Her eyes involuntarily went to the west where she knew Seth was on watch.

  “And your husband?” Joaquín’s voice was very low.

  “Yes.” Her voice was resigned, and Joaquín realized that she was close to tears.

  “Morgan, I told you once that I was your friend. If you want to tell me anything—if you want a shoulder to cry on, I am here.”

  A tear rolled down Morgan’s cheek and then another. She sobbed into her hands. Joaquín waited. Her first words were almost inaudible. “I don’t know why he hates me. I wanted to be friends. I wanted to be like we were in Kentucky. We rode together and talked and laughed together. Then he kissed me.” She shivered as she remembered Seth’s kisses.

  “Sweet Morgan, I am your friend.” Joaquín’s hand caressed the back of her head, but he did not try to touch her beyond that. “Why did he ask you to marry him?”

  Morgan’s sobs shook her body even more. “He didn’t. I asked him to marry me. I didn’t want to. My father willed that all the money went to my uncle unless I married and lived in New Mexico for a year. I offered Seth money to marry me.” She continued crying softly and Joaquín sat back to digest this.

  This explains a lot, he thought. Yet, he knew that as soon as both of them got over their anger, they would realize that they cared for one another a great deal. Joaquín had seen the way Seth protected Morgan, and the way her eyes followed him around the camp. He smiled in the darkness, very glad to have heard what he had been told.

  “Not all men understand a woman’s gentler feelings. Some men only use women. I am afraid you have married a man who may be like that.” He changed his voice to a seductive tone. “I wish you had asked me to marry you. I would gladly have done so, without money. It would be a pleasure to be in the company of so beautiful a woman.” He raised her hand to his lips and looked into her tear-filled eyes.

  “I’m not beautiful, Joaquín,” she whispered.

  His smile was soft and knowing. “But you are, and someday you will know it. It would have given me great pleasure to show you how beautiful you are. I would like to dress you in satins and silks.”

  Morgan felt herself blush at Joaquín’s words.

  “Little Morgan, when you know you are beautiful, then you will be beautiful.”

  They sat together in silence awhile, thinking of different things. Then Joaquín said, “Let’s go back now before people start wondering where we are.” He took her arm and led her back to the wagon. “Goodnight, my fair princess,” he kissed her hand again. “Sleep well.”

  Joaquín left Morgan at her wagon and turned to be met by the hostile stares of Frank and Jake. He smiled and bowed toward them, then went to his own wagon.

  “Somebody ought to do something about that little dandy,” Jake muttered.

  “Yeah, and I know who ought to do it.” Frank looked toward where Seth was standing.

  Crossing the Cimarron River was a nightmare for Morgan. The area around the river was crawling with rattlesnakes. The men kept shooting at them to keep them away from the horses. By the end of the day, everyone was tense and exhausted.

  The next few days after crossing the river were just as tiring as the first days of the journey had been. At Middle Spring, Morgan had her first glimpse of tarantulas. She had not minded the rattlers as much as these huge, hairy spiders. Willow Bar was a welcome relief with its sand and willows.

  Another relief was that Morgan had almost become used to undressing in front of Seth. And their attitudes toward one another were softening. Several times she had caught him smiling at her, and she had found herself smiling happily back!

  Early one morning Seth rode ahead of the wagon train. “I’ll meet you at Rock Creek in two days with some fresh game,” he told Morgan as he packed his saddlebags.

  Both of them remembered the last time he had gone away. The memory brought tears to Morgan’s eyes, and she kept her head lowered so he couldn’t see.

  “What’s this, little one?” his tone was mocking, “Will you actually miss your husband?”

  She kept her eyes on the ground.

  He said quietly, “It seems you and I always say the wrong things to one another, doesn’t it? Let’s try to start over again, when I get back. All right?” He smiled at her and made her smile back. “Could you spare a kiss for a lone knight?”

  Before Morgan could think, she was in his arms. “Seth…” she whispered. His lips touched hers gently at first, and then they both felt the longing of the last weeks. Morgan drew him closer while kneading the muscles in his broad back and sides.

  “No, sweet, we’re going to go slowly this time. Both of us need time to learn to trust. I’ll see you again soon, and we can start all over.”

  He touched her cheek briefly and then leaped into the saddle and was gone.

  Chapter Seven

  THAT night Morgan lay in the wagon, half asleep, pictures of Seth floating through her mind.

  “Look here what I found. Ben.” A stranger was climbing into her wagon! She pulled the blanket close to her chin in fear. “Lotsa yella hair, too.”

  Another man appeared at the end of the wagon. “Bring