A Love Forbidden (6 page)

Her friend returned the nod, then walked over to her father. “I’ve a few things to discuss with you too, Father,” Shiloh heard her say as she opened the office door and stepped outside. “Including an excellent candidate to escort Shiloh when she visits the camps . . .”

The good weather held for the final days of the Bear Dance, but as if it had been planned all along, a fierce winter storm blew in the very next morning, bringing below-freezing temperatures, fresh snow, and frigid winds. Still, Jesse thought three days later as he angrily covered the distance from Captain Jack’s camp to the Agency office on his horse, he would’ve far preferred braving the wind and snow in order to put Meeker and his restrictive policies behind him. After all these years, he knew the mountains and all the warm places next to water and with sufficient game to get him through the rest of the winter. And now, more than ever, he wished to be as far from the White River Agency as he could get.

Since that first day of the Bear Dance, he had managed, quite successfully, to avoid Shiloh. Not that he’d actually expected her to come looking for him after the way he’d rejected her overtures of renewed friendship. Still, he kept sensing her presence, and not a few times, he’d whirled around to find no one there.

What aggrieved him the most was the acute sense of disappointment he’d always felt when that happened. It made no sense, indeed bordered on sheer lunacy, to want to see her again. He needed to put her from his mind and, in the doing, put as much distance as he could between them.

Fate, at the very least, though, seemed dead set against him. Nothing he could say would convince Captain Jack that he wasn’t the man for this particular job. Agent Meeker had specifically asked for him, his leader had said, and he could see no reason not to comply.

It had been on the tip of Jesse’s tongue to enumerate all the reasons
he
could see not to carry out this summons but decided it wouldn’t make a lot of sense to Jack. It was also none of anyone’s business.

From a distance now, he noted two women awaiting him outside the Agency office. Both were bundled up against the cold; though the day was sunny once again, it was still a bit crisp. A dun-colored horse stood tied to the hitching post nearby, an overstuffed set of saddlebags tied behind the saddle.

Captain Jack, apparently not without his own reasons to make the trip today as difficult as possible for Shiloh, had directed him to bring her back to their camp where Coal Creek flowed into the White River, a good two hours’ ride east of here. Jesse was well aware of Jack’s feelings about Meeker and his efforts to turn them all into farmers. Was it possibly Jack’s plan to nip Meeker’s new endeavor in the bud by intimidating Shiloh? If so, Jack might well be in for a surprise. That is, if the adult Shiloh Wainwright was anything like the girl had been.

Be that as it may, Jesse had no intention of making her task any easier either. She’d soon learn that her devious attempt to force him to meet with her, under the guise of needing an escort and interpreter, was doomed to failure. If she thought his earlier refusal to have anything to do with her had been cruelly worded, she was mistaken.

For her own good, he had to drive his point home today. For his own good too, Jesse reluctantly admitted. And he aimed to do just that, if it was the last thing he ever did.

3

“This won’t do,” Shiloh whispered, her pulse beginning to pound crazily. “This won’t do at all.”

“Of course it will,” Josie muttered from beside her. “In fact, I’d almost call it providential.”

“Providential?” Shiloh turned from the tall figure riding toward them and glared at her friend. “I hardly think the Lord had anything to do with Jesse Blackwater being chosen as my escort today. But you, on the other hand, did have a hand in this. Didn’t you?”

Josie pretended to find some bit of lint to brush off her wool coat. “I may have mentioned his name to my father in passing, but in the end, it was Captain Jack’s call.”

“Tell that to Jesse,” Shiloh said between gritted teeth. “Otherwise, he’s going to assume I orchestrated this.”

“Rather, I suggest letting him assume what he will.”

“No.” Shiloh grabbed Josie’s arm. “You tell him. Please!”

Her friend made a cautioning sound. “Shush. He’s too close now. He’ll overhear.”

With an exasperated sigh, Shiloh released Josie’s arm, struggling all the while to regain some semblance of composure. Jesse’s expression, however, as he finally drew up before them, wasn’t at all conducive to maintaining a calm demeanor. Though his face was impassive, the taut line of his lips and glacial glint to his eyes told her more than she ever cared to know.

“Ladies,” he said by way of greeting, even as his furious gaze never wavered from Shiloh’s.

“It’s good to see you again,” Josie quickly offered. “I’m so glad Captain Jack decided on you for Shiloh’s escort. You are perfect in so many ways.”

“Am I?” Jesse’s mouth twisted sardonically. “Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

An edge of warning hovered on his words, and Shiloh felt a frisson of unease. What exactly did he mean by that?

Her chin went up, and she shot him a defiant glare. “I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best. Now,” she said as she walked to the nearby hitching post and untied her horse, “let’s be on our way. I don’t wish to take up more of your valuable time than is absolutely necessary.”

With that, she moved to the side of her mare, gathered the reins in her left hand, put her foot in the stirrup, and lithely mounted. A moment more and she was firmly settled in the saddle.

“Well, Mr. Blackwater,” she then said, “shall we be going?”

“Suits me just fine.” He turned his horse about, then paused to glance down at Josie. “Don’t plan on her being back before later this afternoon. This latest snowfall is going to slow us down even more.”

The other woman nodded. “I’m not worried. I know you’ll take good care of Shiloh.” She looked up at her friend. “Good luck. And remember, Captain Jack can be a bit . . . er . . . difficult at times. You don’t have to win him over with just this first meeting.”

Jesse gave a snort. “Now that’s an understatement, if ever I’ve heard one. I’ll tell you right now that Jack isn’t interested in anything you have to say. Even now, it’s not too late to call it all off.”

Shiloh’s mouth tightened in irritation. If he thought to scare or intimidate her, he had another thought coming. The only reason she even needed him was to show her the way to the Ute encampment and provide protection against potential renegades or ruffians. Otherwise, she’d have far preferred going it alone.

Jesse wasn’t coming along because he wanted to. And her gut told her that he’d no intention of making things any easier for her than he could. But then, nothing about this undertaking was going to be easy. Nathan Meeker had made that apparent from the start.

“Let’s get going, shall we?” she gritted out. “And, for what it’s worth, your counsel has been duly noted.”

“Yeah, I just bet it has.” He smirked, then nudged his horse forward. “For what it’s worth.”

As they headed east along the White River, Shiloh vowed a thousand times over that she’d not be the first to speak. No matter how she needed any and all information that might aid her in her attempt to win over first Captain Jack and then his people. Perhaps she could blame her stubbornness partially on wounded pride, but Shiloh also sensed Jesse didn’t plan to be forthcoming. It’d be a lost cause to humble herself and beg him.

She would’ve, though, if she’d thought her pleas would move him. Too much depended on her success with the Utes to allow pride to get in the way. It wasn’t just about her, anyway, but about her employer and all the people who worked at the Agency. It was also about the Utes and their welfare. And she firmly believed that education and adopting the white man’s ways were their only hope.

“It’s a fool’s quest, Shiloh,” Jesse said just then, almost as if he was reading her mind. “The People don’t want to learn the white man’s ways. They want to honor their ways, the old ways, the ways of their ancestors. They don’t want to farm. They don’t want to be limited to just a small area for the rest of their lives. They’re hunters. They’re mountain people. It’s in their blood, in their hearts, to roam the land, to follow the seasons and where the food is at the different times of the year. You, of all people, should know that.”

Shiloh clenched the reins in her hand. Jesse was right. She
did
know what the Utes wanted. But that no longer mattered. Yet how could she even speak such words, much less convince him to agree and to help her?

“The old ways don’t work anymore.” She looked over at him. “And wishing it were so and digging in one’s heels and refusing to change is even worse. The People have got to change or they’ll lose whatever freedom they still have.”

“Adopting the white man’s customs hasn’t helped them so far.” He turned his head to meet her glance, and the look in his dark eyes wasn’t at all encouraging. “The government still keeps lying to them and stealing their lands.”

“As true as that might be, I can’t do anything about it,” she replied, her exasperation rising once more. “All I can do is help them adapt and learn to live with what they now have. And education is paramount if they are to survive with any of their traditions intact.”

“Well, good luck.” Once more, Jesse riveted his gaze straight ahead. “You’ll get no help from me.”

A sudden anger filled her. What a patronizing, officious, narrow-minded boor!

“And exactly why not?” she demanded. “You’ve lived with both whites and Indians. If you’d an ounce of brains in your head, you’d know what’s to come if the Utes remain on the path they’re currently taking. Or don’t you care?”

He reined his horse to a halt. Startled, Shiloh did the same. Ever so slowly, Jesse impaled her with an icy glare.

“Insult my intelligence if you want,” he ground out. “Obviously, you share Meeker’s opinion of our mental capabilities. But don’t ever imagine that I don’t care what happens to the People.”

“Then why won’t you help me with this? Help me convince the parents to allow their children to be schooled?”

Jesse sighed and nudged his horse back into a walk. “It’s not that simple. You don’t understand.”

Shiloh urged her own horse forward again. “Then help me to understand, Jesse. I want to understand.”

“It wouldn’t make any difference. You’re just like Meeker. You’ve already decided what’s best for us.”

“Well, someone’s got to. The Indians sure haven’t been very successful dealing with the government so far.”

“Yeah, I know. Because every time they agree to yet another treaty, the government ends up ruling in the favor of any and all land-grubbing settlers or miners, and eventually chips away at the treaty until there’s nothing left. It doesn’t matter what the People do or how educated or domesticated they become. Their needs will never matter much to anyone but themselves.”

“If I believed that, I wouldn’t be here, Jesse.”

“Then you’re worse than a do-gooder. You’re totally out of touch with reality!”

This conversation was going nowhere fast. And if she couldn’t even convince Jesse, who was privy to both the white man and red man’s outlooks, how would she ever succeed in convincing the Utes of the dire danger they and their lifestyle were in?

“So, there’s no hope. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”

“No hope of you succeeding, that’s for certain.” He expelled a deep breath. “Now, enough of this, Shiloh. I should’ve never broached the subject to begin with. Let’s just finish this trip and be done with it. The sooner I do that, the sooner I can complete this task Jack’s put on me, and be gone from this valley.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to make mention of the fact that he wasn’t allowed to leave the reservation any more than any of the other Utes, but decided that observation wouldn’t be taken well. Especially since she still needed his help.

“That’s fine with me,” she said. “Just one favor, if you will.”

“And what’s that?”

“If you won’t help me with Captain Jack and his people, will you at least agree not to sabotage my efforts with them?”

He shot her a disbelieving look, then laughed. “Sure. I’ll agree to that. In fact, if you can manage to win over Jack, I’ll eat my saddle blanket.”

The twelve-pole tepees, covered with either buffalo or elk hides sewn together, stood in neat parallel lines on the snow-packed earth. Gray smoke wafted from many of the tepees through the open smoke holes at their tops, and Shiloh suspected most of the women were inside cooking the day’s main meal. Buckskin-clad children played outside, and most of the men either stood talking in groups or sitting outside their tepees on buffalo robes, sharpening knives or fashioning various tools and weapons. A few others worked with the horses corralled a short walk from the camp.

Shiloh counted ninety tepees. She wondered how many held children of school age. If even half did so, combined with the children of Chief Douglas and Chief Johnson’s people, she might need Josie’s help after all. But she was getting ahead of herself. First, she had to convince the parents even to send their children to school.

She looked to Jesse as they rode into camp. “Which one is Captain Jack’s home?”

He pointed toward a tepee standing nearly straight ahead. It appeared a bit bigger than the others and was painted with various symbols. As did all the other tepees, its entrance faced east so the occupants could always greet the morning sun. As they approached the hide dwelling, the flap covering the entrance lifted, and a man stepped outside.

From the look of him, Shiloh instantly surmised this was Captain Jack, the chief of the camp. Tall for a Ute, he was dressed in a blue trade shirt and brown vest, buckskin leggings and moccasins, and he wore a bear robe that he pulled tightly to him as he exited his tepee. His long hair was worn in two braids, and a large, round earring hung from each ear. His cheekbones were high, his lips full, and his nose long and straight.

His eyes were narrowed and piercing, however, as he glanced first to Jesse, then Shiloh. And it was quite evident, from his scowling expression, that he didn’t appear at all happy to see them.

Shiloh inhaled a steadying breath, squared her shoulders, then swung down from her horse. Without even waiting for Jesse to join her, she marched right up to the Ute chief and nodded in greeting.

“My name is Miss Wainwright, and I’ve come at the request of Indian Agent Meeker to meet with you,” she said in the Ute language. “I am the new teacher for the Agency school, and I—”