A Love Forbidden (12 page)

She shot a surreptitious glance at Jesse, who rode to her left. His expression was inscrutable. But then, he likely didn’t appreciate the presence of any whites on his precious reservation lands, and so wasn’t at all bothered to be leaving the Agency folk behind. That he cared enough to embark on what would be at least a six-day trip through some frequently harsh terrain, just to help her out, was what mattered most to Shiloh. It was the sort of thing the old Jesse would’ve done, and that gladdened her heart.

Little by little, he was beginning to lower his defenses against her, just like he’d done all those years ago. Little by little, he seemed to be trusting her again. That day he’d turned and walked away from her at the Bear Dance, Shiloh had thought she’d lost him forever. Lost him just as she had nine years ago when he’d ridden, bloody and beaten, from their ranch.

She knew now she couldn’t bear to lose him again. That one time, long ago, had been more than enough. But how to convince Jesse to resume a friendship forged once in their youth and now on the verge of restoration as adults?

Well, Shiloh reassured herself, there’d be plenty of time alone together to work on that dilemma. And maybe the endeavor would help keep her mind—and worries—off her sister. If she still even lived . . .

Please, Lord
, she prayed.
Don’t let me be too late. Jordan and I didn’t part very well that last time I left the ranch. I’ve always harbored so much resentment against her for what she’d done to Jesse, not to mention the tiresome, superior way she always treated me. Yet she’s still my sister. I love her and desperately need to have her hear that. Oh, please, let me at least be able to tell her that!

“If it’s all right with you,” Jesse said just then, piercing her painful thoughts, “I’d like as much as possible to avoid any settlements or camps along the way. A lot of folk won’t take kindly to some Ute escorting a pretty white woman through the mountains. And the resultant ‘discussion’ with them over that could slow us down a lot. Not to mention, I’d prefer not to have to kill any of them, because then we’d have a posse of Indian-hating whites on our hands.”

Shiloh expelled an exasperated breath, even as a frisson of pleasure at Jesse calling her “pretty” coursed through her. “If that’s what you want, that’s fine with me. But you really should stop assuming all whites hate Indians. Because it’s just not true.”

“Problem is,” he grimly replied, “it’s kind of hard to separate the Indian lovers from the haters. Most times, you don’t find that out until it’s too late.”

There was a thread of bitterness, likely well substantiated by many years of personal experience, in his words. Compassion filled her. She looked once again at him and saw the rigid set of his shoulders and tight line of his jaw. Though she yearned to know more about what his life had been like since he’d left the ranch, she also sensed he was in no mood to confide in her right now.

“Except for my red hair causing an occasional stir,” she said instead, “I’ve never felt like I stood out in any crowd, or that I didn’t belong. Not until I came to the Agency and first mingled with the People at the Bear Dance, and then when I visited the camps. But the sense of alienation, of being different and that I didn’t fit in and maybe wasn’t even wanted there, struck me so strongly then. And it wasn’t a very pleasant feeling.”

“We’re from two different worlds, Shiloh.” Jesse’s expression turned pensive, sad. “Two worlds that unfortunately don’t seem to understand each other very well or want to accept each other.”

“And that’s exactly why I wanted to come to the Agency and teach the children, Jesse!” In spite of her efforts to control it, excitement tightened her voice. “Because there’s no reason why we can’t come to understand and accept each other. We’re all God’s creatures. He loves us equally and we’re called to love our neighbors because of our love for Jesus.”

His mouth twisted in disdain. “For one thing, not all whites are Christians. And, for another, a lot of those who claim to be Christians don’t think Christ’s mandate to love extends to even some of their own kind, much less to heathen savages. You know that as well as I.”

“I do know that,” she said. “But you can’t give up on your vision of life and how others should be treated because of the evil done by a few. Instead, you have to find and join with the good people to make this world a better place.”

“Which I have. The only difference is I chose to try and make the lives of the Ute people better. I’ve no interest in involving myself with the whites anymore, at least not any more than I have to.”

Frustration filled her. “But, with your shared Ute and white blood, you’ve been given the opportunity to make an impact on both worlds, for the good of both.”

Jesse graced her with a disbelieving look. “Surely you’re not that naïve to imagine I’ve any influence with the whites? As far as they’re concerned, even one drop of Indian blood makes one an Indian. When they look at me, they don’t see a half-white man. They see a full-blooded Ute Indian.”

“And since when do you let another’s view of you determine what you will or will not do or believe?” As much as she tried to hold on to her rapidly fraying patience with Jesse’s negativity, she was beginning to lose her temper. “The Jesse Blackwater I knew nine years ago certainly didn’t.”

With an aggravated sound, he reined in his horse and turned in his saddle to lock gazes with her. “Look, I think it’s past time we drop this particular conversation. Let’s just agree to disagree. Because, if we don’t, this is going to be a pretty long and miserable trip for the both of us.”

Shiloh halted her own horse, then opened her mouth to explain herself further. After a moment’s consideration, however, she clamped it shut again.

She had pushed too hard. She needed to back off. And Jesse was right. They did have a long trip ahead of them. Nothing was served making him angry right off.

“Fine,” she muttered, urging her horse forward again. “Let’s drop it then. You’re obviously incapable of holding more than one narrow-minded, cynical opinion in that mule-headed head of yours.”

“Oh, so now I’m the mule-headed one, am I?” He gave a sharp laugh, then nudged his horse to catch up with her. “If that isn’t the old Shiloh, I don’t know what is. You haven’t changed much at all, have you?”

“Well, neither have you!” She punctuated that with an indignant toss of her head. All the while, though, she smiled a secret smile.

It was beginning to seem like old times, with her and Jesse trading quips and teases back and forth. Bit by bit, she was getting him to relax and open up with her. And, as he did, she was learning more and more about the man he had become. A man she was increasingly eager to know.

She had Jesse back again—or at least the opportunity to renew their friendship. And, the Lord willing, this time their friendship would forever hold firm and strong.

As soon as they crossed the White River, they urged their horses into a ground-covering canter, heading southeast, and eventually picked up Sheep Creek, which they then began to follow as it flowed southward. After several hours of hard riding, the mountains on their left gradually began to rise in elevation. They took a short break to eat a simple lunch of cheese sandwiches washed down with some apple cider, water the horses after they cooled a bit, and then set out again. By midafternoon, the towering behemoths in the distance grew closer and closer and began to form a jagged set of ridges with many streams running down their steep sides.

“The snow was heavy this winter,” Jesse said as they finally slowed their pace yet again to allow their winded horses to catch their breath. “I expect, now that the spring runoff has started, that some of the bigger creeks farther south of us might be treacherous to cross.”

“Well, lucky for us we’re both good swimmers.” Shiloh grinned at one particular memory of a hot summer’s day nine years ago. “Not that you let on that you could swim until I was just about convinced you’d drowned.”

Jesse’s lips twitched. “You certainly were a very gullible little girl back then. I mean, anyone with even an ounce of Indian blood in them wouldn’t know how to swim? It’s one of the first survival skills we learn.”

“Well, maybe so, but I didn’t know how much Indian upbringing you’d had back in those early days when I first met you. You didn’t trick me like that again.”

“Oh, I reckon, given time and the right opportunity,” Jesse drawled, leaning back in his saddle to gaze up at the tall mountains on their left, “I could do so again.”

Shiloh gave a disgusted snort, then followed his gaze to the pinyon-juniper woodlands that crept up the mountainsides. “What are they called? These mountains, I mean?”

He pointed to the jagged peaks undulating above them. “Do you see how the tops join together to almost form a spine? Well, I’ve heard this range called many things, but Hogback is one of them, because it resembles the back of a hog.”

“You seem pretty familiar with this area. I suppose this is one of many Ute hunting grounds?”

Jesse nodded. “Yes, it is. We capture the red-tailed hawks and golden eagles that nest in these rocks and cliffs for our feather war bonnets. And there’s also elk and deer in abundance roaming the steep hillsides. Occasionally, we even manage to outmaneuver a bighorn sheep up there.” He chuckled. “Not too often, though. They’re a lot more sure-footed on those rocks than we are.”

Shiloh smiled, her gaze avidly taking in the scenery already kissed with the early green of spring. “It’s a beautiful land, these mountains. I hope your people never have to leave them.”

“So do I.” Jesse sighed. “The People feel closest to the Creator in the mountains.” He looked over at her as they rode along. “Have you heard any of the Ute legends?”

“Some of them. Kanosh, my Ute nursemaid, used to tell me some when I was a child.”

“Ever heard the one of the Sleeping Ute Mountain?”

“No, can’t say that I have,” she replied after a moment’s thought.

“Well, in the very old days,” Jesse began, “the Sleeping Ute Mountain was the Great Warrior God. He came to battle the Evil Ones who were causing a lot of trouble. That’s how the peaks and valleys of these mountains were formed, during the battle between the Great Warrior God and the Evil Ones, from them stepping hard upon the earth as they fought.

“In the midst of the battle, the Great Warrior God was injured, so he lay down to rest and fell into a deep sleep. And the blood that flowed from his wound turned into living waters for all of the creatures to drink. When clouds settle over the Sleeping Warrior God, it’s a sign he’s changing the blankets of the seasons. When the People see a light green blanket over their God, they know it’s spring. A dark green blanket tells them it’s summer. A red and yellow one means it’s fall, and of course a white one is winter.

“The People also believe when the clouds gather on the highest peaks, their Great Warrior God is pleased with them and will send rain to water the land. They also believe he will someday rise again to do battle for them against their enemies.”

Lulled by the rhythmic rocking of the horse beneath her as it walked along, warmed by the sun, and mesmerized by Jesse’s rich, deep voice as he spun his story, Shiloh couldn’t remember when she’d been more content or felt so complete with just the presence of another person at her side. She almost wished this day would never end.

But it had to. And another and another day would follow until they finally reached their destination. With that, Shiloh’s happy mood evaporated. A wave of guilt washed over her.

Her sister was seriously ill or injured and could well die, if she wasn’t already dead. As much as Shiloh wished it otherwise, this wasn’t the time to fulfill girlish dreams of a romantic journey with Jesse at her side.

She straightened in her saddle, gathered up her reins, and glanced at Jesse. “Thank you for the wonderful story. It’s time, though, that we move out again. This isn’t a pleasure trip, after all. We need to cover as much ground as we can before nightfall.”

With that, she urged her horse forward. The startled animal broke into a fast trot, then quickly settled into a lope. After a moment, Shiloh heard Jesse signal his own horse to follow.

He soon came up alongside her and, in a swift move, leaned over and grabbed her horse’s reins. In but the span of a few more seconds, Jesse had her mount pulled to a stop.

His brow furrowed with puzzlement, he pointedly caught and held her gaze. “What’s wrong, Shiloh?” he demanded. “And what was
that
all about?”

7

Shiloh sent Jesse a searing glare. Not only did she not want to talk about her muddled feelings right now, but she especially didn’t want to talk to
him
about them. Jordan would surely be a sore point between them, and though she couldn’t blame him for his feelings, Jordan nonetheless was her sister. The fact that Shiloh had enough of her own mixed emotions, and the resultant guilt over that especially now that Jordan might well be dying, didn’t help things at all. Especially now, when she and Jesse had been sharing such a wonderful time of their own.

“Nothing’s wrong,” she managed to grit out in reply to his question. “I just forgot, for a moment, the reason for this trip. And I’ve got to get home before”—in spite of her best efforts, she barely caught the sob that rose in her throat—“b-before it’s too late.”

The confusion faded from his dark eyes. “Oh yes. Of course.”

Now she’d gone and offended him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it was your fault. I just . . .” She heaved a weary sigh. “I just need to stay focused, that’s all.”

“Feeling guilty for enjoying this beautiful day, are you?” Jesse asked, sudden realization dawning in his eyes. “And for the pleasure of my company?” he added with a wicked grin.

Hot blood rushed to Shiloh’s face. “It wasn’t like that at all. Now, are we going to sit here and jaw all day or get on with our journey?”

He shrugged and released her reins. “Sure.” He lifted his gaze to the sky, where the sun was already beginning its downward descent. “Let’s make the most of the three or four hours of daylight we have. I know a perfect spot to make camp tonight.”

With that, they set out once again, and the next few hours passed with some satisfying miles covered. Just about the time the sun started to set, they came upon a nice-sized creek flowing through the open meadows in the rolling foothills of the Hogback range. Enough small trees grew closely together in one spot near the creek to offer some shelter, and it was there that Jesse led Shiloh to make camp for the night.

“Tell you what,” he said as they tied their horses to a nearby tree and proceeded to remove the saddles and other gear. “Why don’t you start gathering a mess of firewood for a cook fire and to keep us warm tonight, while I go see if I can catch some fish from the creek? Some trout would sure taste good right about now, don’t you think?”

Shiloh’s mouth began to water at even the thought of fresh fish roasted over a wood fire. “I think that’s an excellent idea. Just don’t disappoint me, now that you’ve got me thinking about such a delicious supper.”

Jesse laughed. “Give me a few minutes to fashion a spear from one of those saplings growing down by the creek, and you’ll have your fish before you can even collect enough wood and get a fire going.”

The earlier tension dissipated in the friendly rivalry as Shiloh set to work gathering twigs and pieces of wood. And, true to Jesse’s challenge, she had barely gotten a good, hot fire going when he sauntered back, the mouth of a big cutthroat trout gripped in each hand.

As she set to work cleaning the fish of their innards, Jesse quickly fashioned a long, smooth, wooden spit to hang between two forked branches he’d rammed into the ground on either side of the fire. After shoving the spit through both trout and flavoring them with some salt from his pack, he set the spit on the forked branches. Soon the savory aroma of cooking fish began to fill the air.

From her saddlebags, Shiloh pulled out some slices of bread, a hunk of cheese, and a bag of dried apples. After cleaning off a relatively flat stone, she laid a cloth over it and placed the additional parts of the meal upon it. Jesse glanced at the offerings and then gestured to the bread.

“Let’s save the bread for breakfast,” he said, digging through his own saddlebags to extract a bag of flour. “I’ll make some bannock bread for us tonight with my ration of annuity flour. It’ll taste great with the fish.”

Shiloh leaned forward in interest. “I’ve heard of bannock bread but never had any. How do you make it?”

“In its simplest version, which is what we’ll have tonight, you just mix flour and water, roll the dough into a long snake, and wrap it around a green stick that you then hold over the fire to bake it.” He grinned. “There are more complicated recipes that require butter and other ingredients, but that’s too much to bring along when flour and water will do.”

In another ten minutes, Jesse handed Shiloh her own stick with the dough wrapped around it and they both proceeded to bake their bread until it was a golden brown. By then the fish was done.

As they ate, Shiloh couldn’t believe how delicious everything was. Between the two of them, they soon consumed an entire fish, some of the bannock bread, and most of the cheese and dried apples, washed down with the fresh, cold creek water. Finally, replete, she leaned back against her saddle with a contented sigh.

“Why is it food always tastes so good eaten out-of-doors?” she asked, pillowing her hands behind her head.

Jesse shrugged, popped his last bite of trout into his mouth, and chewed and swallowed before replying. “Likely because we’ve had a hard day of riding, and anything cooked over an open fire tastes better. Plus, it was all freshly caught or made. Well, the fish and bannock anyway.”

She shot him an impish glance. “In addition to the most excellent company, of course.”

He arched a dark brow. “Oh, so now after that brush-off earlier, I’m suddenly back to being excellent company? Fat chance of that.”

At the memory of her chaotic mix of guilt and pleasure this afternoon, and her brusque behavior toward Jesse, Shiloh’s smile faded. “I’m sorry for that,” she said, her expression turning serious. “It was nothing you did. I just . . . I just was feeling badly, worrying about my sister.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear I didn’t offend you in some way. Considering I’ve managed to do that a lot since we first met again.”

He rose and began gathering up the small pile of fish bones left over from the meal. After tossing them into the fire, he picked up a few thicker pieces of wood Shiloh had gathered earlier and laid them onto the slowly dying flames. In no time, the fire spread to the newly added limbs and rose high once again.

For a while, they watched the arcing flames dance, ebbing and flowing, throwing off occasional bright red embers to flare then dissipate in the darkness that enveloped them just outside the cozy haven of the fire’s light. Sparks popped and crackled; the tangy scent of wood smoke permeated the air. She followed the trail of a few sparks as they rose into the night sky, where her gaze snagged on the stars, intense points of light in the black canvas of the heavens. And, once again, Shiloh was overcome with a sense of gratitude and deep peace.

“You don’t know how much this means to me,” she said at long last, never taking her eyes off the stars. “The fact you offered to escort me home.” Shiloh paused, then looked to Jesse. “It’s bad enough I’m dragging you on a long and arduous journey. But the consideration of returning to Castle Mountain Ranch surely can’t sit well with you, either.”

“I put all that behind me years ago.” Jesse heaved a weary breath. “I’m beginning to wonder, though, if you have.”

For an instant, Shiloh was tempted to pretend she didn’t understand what—or who—he was talking about. As much as she’d resented Jordan all these years for her condescending, older sister ways, the long-simmering and unresolved anger at her for the lies she’d told about Jesse was the true source of her guilt. She claimed to be a Christian, yet she couldn’t let go of that anger or find forgiveness in her heart. And it was a shameful secret she’d never shared with anyone.

Leastwise, not until now.

“If you’re asking if I’ve ever forgiven Jordan for what her lies about you caused,” she said tautly, “no, I haven’t. Not only were you brutally whipped and humiliated because of her, but I lost the best friend I’d ever had. When you rode away that day, Jesse, you took my heart with you.”

She laughed, and the sound was softly considering. “After that day, I’d thought I’d successfully hidden you back in the deep recesses of my mind, never to be thought of again. Because I didn’t dare think of you, or I might not long endure the pain. But I realize now that I did so for another reason entirely.”

Shiloh hung her head and when, after a time, she didn’t continue, Jesse gently prodded her. “What was that reason, Shiloh? You need to face it, name it, before you can come to terms with it.”

“Yes, you’re probably right.” The admission, though, was a hard one to make, even to someone who was the most likely to understand. “It’s just that . . . how do you face the fact that you hate your sister? That, sometimes, you even wish her dead?”

Jesse stared at her, stunned. It was one thing for him to distrust and even hate the people who had hurt him, time and again. But he had never imagined that kind, happy, generous Shiloh would ever possess such feelings. She was light, brightness, and should never have had to experience such darkness.

And maybe she never would have if she hadn’t met him. Bitterness filled him. No one who came to care for him ever had a happy ending. Not his mother. Not his wife. And now, it seemed the same might happen to Shiloh if she once more came back into his life. If he
let
her come back into his life.

“Don’t be a fool,” he snarled, picking up a twig and savagely throwing it into the fire. “Don’t turn your back on your family because of what happened to me. I wasn’t entirely innocent in that encounter with Jordan in the barn. She didn’t hog-tie and drag me kicking and screaming in there, you know.”

Pain darkened her eyes. “Yes, even then I knew that you went willingly. And maybe that’s as much a part of my anger at my sister as anything else. That she stole you from me and didn’t even appreciate what she had.”

“Oh, Shiloh.” A pitying look on his face, Jesse shook his head. “I wasn’t any big catch.”

“You were to me! And Jordan knew it.”

Once more, Jesse was taken aback. He had known Shiloh cared for him but was surprised to hear how deeply her feelings for him had gone. As deep as his for her?

But would he have done differently that day, even if he’d known? Shiloh was but a child then, a mere twelve-year-old, freckle-faced, pigtailed girl. True, he’d immediately liked her, but part of that might well have been because she always looked up to him with such trust and admiration. A heady combination for a youth who’d rarely had a friend, certainly not one who thought so highly of him. Yet what normal male could’ve resisted the strikingly beautiful Jordan Wainwright?

“Well, though you might not have realized it then,” he said, his tone grim, “you should now. Your sister was doing you a big favor. I wasn’t any good for a sweet kid like you. And, even though I didn’t force myself on her like she claimed, I still got what I deserved for being fool enough to think Jordan saw any value in me.”

“So, anyone who loves you is a fool, is she?” Anger glinted in her eyes, and Jesse had the uneasy sense that they teetered on the brink of yet another argument. “So, is that what you thought of your wife too? That she was a fool for loving you?”