Love's Revenge (Entangled Scandalous)

by Avery, Joan

  She expelled her breath as a pine cone high on a spruce behind her tumbled into the snow.

  Piah was clearly pleased with the rifle. He spoke briefly to the other braves before turning his attention back to her.

  “Worth’s woman come with Piah.” He patted the back of his pony.

  “No. Worth is coming here.” She pointed to the ground in front of her.

  “No.” Piah’s face was blank.

  Did Piah know about Stephen? Did he know that Stephen wasn’t coming back? Perhaps they had killed him. It was too terrible to contemplate. She grabbed at anything. This man admired Stephen, she reasoned. He wouldn’t kill a man he admired. But what would he do with her? Surely he wouldn’t harm Worth’s woman. Or was she just rationalizing the only decision left open to her?

  “Come.” Piah extended his hand to Kate.

  The man’s hand, deeply bronzed and powerful, could crush her neck easily or force her to do almost anything. For a moment, she was afraid she couldn’t do what needed to be done. She took a breath, then reached for Piah’s outstretched hand. Another brave grabbed her waist and boosted her up behind Piah.

  Piah gave orders to the brave who had helped her to mount. The man went to the tent again. He returned with the remaining buffalo robe and threw it around Kate. Kate pulled the fur up around her shoulders as Piah nudged his pony forward.

  …

  “Shhh, boy. It’s all right.” Stephen tried to calm his Appaloosa whose withers quivered in fear. He had tracked the horse for the better part of two days, his movement hindered by deep snow in the higher elevations. Now he was well down the far side of the range and it was late in the day. He suspected Kate’s horse had died from its injuries and the pack animal was nowhere in sight. The Appaloosa would have to carry them both.

  “Come here, boy. It’s all right.” He worked for a long time trying to calm the animal before he attempted to approach it. “You must be hungry, fella. Come here.”

  The horse hesitated. Stephen stood still. At this point, any hope he had of capturing the frightened animal would require the horse to come to him.

  Snorting, the horse shook his head.

  “That’s right, come on. I know you’re hungry.” Hunger finally dominated the horse’s fear. It approached Stephen and began to eat the grass. He grabbed the horse’s rope bridle, then ran his gloved hand down the horse’s neck and shoulder, inspecting the horse as he did. Badly scratched and bruised, the horse showed no signs of permanent injury. That was good.

  He tied the speckled horse to a small aspen and began to forage for feed for the starving animal. When he had collected several handfuls, he sat on a small boulder.

  His mind had barely left Kate the past two days. She had good sense. She would survive. He had promised her he would return today. It was clear that once more he would break a promise to her.

  The rumble of hoof beats made him look up. He pulled his Colt again and held it firmly.

  He re-holstered the gun only when he identified the approaching party as Ute. A small hunting party of five or so braves. He raised a hand in greeting, still unable to identify any of the braves. Only when they came closer did he recognize their leader—Piah.

  There was a second rider mounted behind Piah. A woman.

  Stephen started to run forward, picking up his pace even as the Indians slowed.

  Before Piah had stopped his horse completely, Kate had slid down off its back. She hit the ground unsteadily and Stephen thought she might fall. He picked her up in an embrace.

  “Kate... Kate...” He buried his head in her hair and held on tight, tighter than he had ever held on to anyone in his life.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kate rested her head against Stephen’s back. They had been riding most of the day and she was exhausted.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Piah says Ouray’s camp is just beyond the rise ahead.” He nodded toward a small knoll that hid the land beyond. “You’ll be able to get some rest then.”

  He had barely finished speaking when Piah galloped up beside them.

  Piah said something to Stephen in Ute before letting out a whoop and galloping to the top of the rise.

  Kate sat up straight, startled by the cry. A Ute warrior was almost hidden high on a brush platform in a tree to their left. A lookout, she imagined. As they reached the top of the knoll, the Ute camp appeared on the small plateau before them.

  The weather had warmed considerably. It was almost mild as the late afternoon sun perched over the snow-covered peaks to the west. Wisps of smoke curled into the sky from the tops of dozens of tepees made of animal hides and domed willow huts. Almost all of the entrances faced east.

  The most impressive tepee was at the entrance to the camp. Constructed from several tall poles wrapped in pale animal hide, it was the only one decorated with drawings—ochre animals and blackened symbols that Kate suspected were religious in nature.

  On the warm afternoon with the aspen leaves brilliant as the sun, children dashed about laughing at play. A woman was adjusting the opening in a tepee just above the entrance. She worked two long poles that angled to the ground in the back of the tepee, fixing the triangular shaped flaps at the top to allow smoke inside to better escape. Several other women mashed berries into a paste. Still others smoked fish and meat over smoldering fires. All the women were sturdily built with round faces and black eyes. They wore dresses made of hides decorated with animal teeth and porcupine quills. Their hair was neatly braided over their shoulders.

  Off to the right, rustic corrals held hundreds of ponies. They were beautiful animals, well cared for and clearly high spirited. Kate remembered what she had heard about the Utes and their ponies. Wealth and honor accompanied ownership of the animals.

  Women and older children gathering pine cones and acorns on the near side of camp looked up curiously as Piah galloped in. Piah pulled his pony up in front of the elaborately decorated tepee at the entrance to the camp. Several of the adolescent boys went running to greet him.

  The admiration in the boys’ eyes and the obvious teasing they received from Piah fascinated her. There was something very familiar about the exchange, something very human and basic. Piah spoke again to the boys and nodded toward Stephen and her.

  The boys laughed and she found herself blushing. What were they talking about? She was an outsider here, an interloper in a society that she knew nothing about.

  Piah disappeared inside the tepee. Stephen pulled the Appaloosa up beside Piah’s pony. A boy of about twelve or thirteen with smooth mahogany skin and quiet eyes took the reins from Stephen as he had from Piah.

  Stephen dismounted and reached up to help her down. She smiled at the boy. He did not return her smile. Several younger boys who waited several paces away tittered. She looked at them and they scattered, still laughing.

  Stephen, meanwhile, was speaking with the four other braves. She guessed he thanked them because they acknowledged him with a nod before riding off toward the corral.

  “This is Ouray’s kan-ne-ga, his home. We will wait here to be acknowledged.”

  While he gave instructions to the boy in Ute, she studied the camp more closely. It was well situated in a grove of trees. A stream ran along the east side of the camp. Several women collected water in buckskin bags.

  Piah emerged from the tepee and nodded to Stephen before heading toward the corral himself.

  Stephen held back the kite-like flap that covered the opening to the tepee.

  “I’ll follow you,” he said, seemingly unaware of her trepidation.

  She did not know what to expect inside. After a moment’s hesitation, she ducked her head and entered. The skins that covered the four-poled structure were tanned until they were partially transparent. The result was a diffused light that made the interior brighter than she had anticipated.

  On the far side of a small fire occupying the center of the tepee, an Indian of about forty years
sat cross-legged. Solidly built, he was of average height at best. He had a round face with skin the color of well-tanned leather but smooth and unlined. He inspected her openly and frankly. His perusal lacked the lust she had seen in Piah’s eyes.

  The absence of a draft behind her told her that Stephen had entered as well. She waited, eyes fixed on the man who sat quietly studying her.

  “Sit.” Ouray’s directive was neither an order nor an invitation. Simply a permission.

  Stephen took her elbow and helped her sit back from the fire near the entrance. He himself sat closer to the fire on Ouray’s right.

  The only other occupant of the tepee was an Indian woman sitting opposite the entrance. Kate had never seen anyone so serenely beautiful. She wore her black hair down and loose. Her dress was light buckskin. A separate skin made a cape that was heavily decorated with porcupine quills and beads. An animal’s soft fur had been stitched in a fan shape on the upper bodice. The woman’s unlined face was longer and more finely drawn than the women she had seen outside. While Ouray’s eyes were deeply thoughtful and intelligent, this woman’s eyes were bright and yet content at the same time.

  The woman had a fine nose and a soft pleasant mouth that turned up slightly at the corners in a soft smile. Her eyes never left Ouray. Kate did not have to be told that there was a connection between the two. They were acutely aware of one another’s presence and yet at ease with each other in a way Kate had only begun to imagine.

  …

  “Welcome, my friend, Stephen Worth.” The chief spoke in English, his voice quiet yet commanding.

  “Thank you for allowing us into your home,” Stephen responded. “We were headed to Silverton when we were stricken with bad luck. A mountain lion drove off our horses. Piah and his braves found my sister-in-law and brought her to me where I had found my horse.”

  “I do not understand sister-in-law?” Ouray spoke to Stephen in Ute.

  “She is sister to my dead wife.” Stephen replied.

  Ouray nodded.

  “Why do you travel with your dead wife’s sister?” Ouray continued in his native tongue.

  “She has come to see the place her sister died. To understand the way of the land and the people here. She will be pleased to meet you. I have told her that it was your word that saved me from further punishment. I am in your debt.”

  Ouray held up a hand, dismissing the thanks.

  “Perhaps you could tell her as well what you told the black robed judge.” Stephen said.

  “Why does she need to know this?”

  “She knows I have been punished by the white man for killing her sister.”

  “And you have not told her the truth?”

  “I have told her I was here with you.”

  “That should be enough for her.”

  Stephen dropped his head. It would be ungracious to press the matter. “I’m afraid we must impose on your hospitality for a day or two. My horse is exhausted and he is the only horse we have left.”

  “You are always welcome in our home. I will have Chipeta direct the women to raise a tepee for you.”

  “Thank you, Ouray. You are most generous.”

  He rose and extended a hand to Kate to help her to her feet. He pushed open the flap and walked out into the bright sunlight.

  “I’ll go get your things. Wait here.”

  “But—”

  They were interrupted as the woman Kate had seen inside the tent stepped out.

  “Kate, this is Ouray’s wife Chipeta.” Stephen finished the introduction in Ute. “Chipeta, this is Katherine Barker. She is called Kate.”

  “Welcome, Kate.” Chipeta smiled and Kate found she was very comfortable with this quiet yet confident woman.

  “Thank you.”

  The woman nodded to Kate then addressed Stephen. “You must excuse me to your wife’s sister. For I do not speak the white man’s tongue well.”

  “Chipeta apologizes for not speaking more English.”

  “Tell her I apologize for not speaking her language.”

  Stephen did so and Chipeta’s smile widened. “You must eat the evening meal with us.”

  “Thank you. You honor us.”

  “What did she say?” Kate asked after Chipeta walked away.

  “She has invited us to dine with her and Ouray this evening. It is a great honor.”

  …

  There was a shouted call from the lookout and a sudden stir in the camp.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It seems there are more visitors.”

  “But who?”

  A lone rider approached. A white man. She smiled. “It’s Otto.”

  “Yes, it is. He must have finished his discussions with General Adams. I suspect he’s come to solicit Ouray’s help in getting the hostages freed.”

  “Otto.” She couldn’t help herself. She was so delighted to see the little Russian.

  She ran forward to where he had reined in his horse.

  “Katherine, my dear friend, I am delighted to see you.”

  “And I, you.”

  The man threw his leg over the large horse and dismounted. “Stephen, I am glad to see you two have made the trip safely.”

  “It was not without its moments. How does it go with you?”

  “Poorly, I am afraid. Chief Johnson still holds the hostages. Adams is convinced that only Ouray’s intercession will see them safely free.”

  “He may be right.”

  “I hope he is right,” Otto said. “But even if the hostages are released unharmed, I fear for the Ute. The newspapers have everyone worked into a frenzy. They are in danger of being driven out of their home. It will be a sad day if that happens. If you’ll excuse me, I must now speak with Chief Ouray.”

  Chapter Twenty

  “In the beginning there were no people. Only the animals served Sinawaf, the creator. One day Sinawaf began to cut sticks and place them in a large bag. Coyote watched curiously, anxious to know the purpose of the Creator. One day when Sinawaf was away, Coyote opened the bag and was surprised to see many people come out. They all spoke different languages and scattered to all corners of the earth.

  “When Sinawaf returned, he was very angry with Coyote. He had planned to distribute the people equally so that the people would live in peace. Now, because of Coyote’s curiosity, the different people would each try to gain the other’s land.

  “There were a few people remaining in the bag. Sinawaf said, ‘This small tribe shall be Ute. They will be very brave and able to defeat the rest.’”

  There was murmur of appreciation among the Utes gathered for dinner in Ouray’s tepee after Piah had recited the much-told story. She had listened attentively to Otto’s whispered translation of the tale of creation. Young and proud, Piah had uttered the concluding words as a challenge to the visitors.

  Ouray sat quietly in his place of honor across from the entrance to the tepee. All waited for his comment. When he spoke, his voice was low and soft. “I fear the day is upon us when we will no longer be able to stop the white man who invades our land.”

  “Never!” Piah shouted.

  Kate did not need to understand Ute to gather the meaning of the exchange between the two men.

  Ouray raised his hand to silence the agitated brave. “Tonight, let us eat with our friends. Tomorrow will bring what it brings.”

  With that direction, several conversations broke out among the guests in the tepee.

  Kate picked up a cake of dried and ground berries, preferring it to the smoked venison that was also a part of the meal. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she was presented with food. She had found the dried meat tough and difficult to chew, although its taste was not unpleasant. The dried berries and nuts provided the bulk of her meal. Now she was also offered a type of fried bread which she enjoyed immensely.

  “Tell me about Ouray,” she asked quietly of Otto.

  “Ouray has been a powerful force for the Ute for many years. As a yo
ung child, he was sent to live with a well-to-do Spanish ranching family near Taos. He worked as a shepherd for them. Although he has never learned to read and write, he can speak four languages. His father was leader of the Tabeguache Ute and when Ouray, which means ‘arrow,’ was eighteen, he returned to his people.”

  Kate glanced over to where Ouray was speaking to Stephen in Ute. There was obviously a comfortable friendship between the two.

  “Tell me about Chipeta.” Kate was caught up in the story of this couple who were so different and yet so much the same.

  “Ah, Chipeta. Her name means ‘the charitable one.’ You have no doubt noticed she is very beautiful and unlike the Ute women in size and features. She is a Kiowa Apache whose parents were both killed in a raid. She was found crawling around the deserted camp by the Utes and raised as sister to Ouray’s first wife. After Black Mare died, it was her place to take over care of Ouray’s son, Paron.” Otto leaned in closer to Kate. “It is quite common for a Ute to marry a sister of his wife.”

  The irony of Otto’s statement was not lost on her.

  “Chipeta helped raise Paron and loved him as her own. The boy was taken in a Sioux raid. After the loss, she and Ouray became inseparable. The tragedy is that they had no children of their own. Ouray’s devotion to her is so great that he never took a second wife, although it would have been totally acceptable for him to have done so.”

  She turned to look at Ouray. This time she found she was under his quiet scrutiny. What must he think? As sister to Stephen’s first wife, traveling alone with him, the assumption must be...

  …

  “Will you take your wife’s sister as your wife?” Ouray spoke in Ute to Stephen.

  “That is not the white man’s way,” Stephen replied carefully, unwilling to go down this path.

  “But I see the way you look at her and she at you. It would be a good match.”

  “Perhaps. But we have much to settle between us.”

  “This is why you brought her to our land?” Ouray studied Kate, who sat across the fire.

  Piah had been following the conversation closely. Now he spoke. “If you will not have her, I will buy her. I will give you five ponies.”