For an instant, Shiloh wasn’t sure who Josie was talking about. Then the realization dawned that Josie had yet again returned to her matchmaking.
“If you think Jesse’s so attractive,” she said, “why don’t you encourage him? Because I’m not interested.”
Josie walked from the room then turned back. “Maybe I will,” she said with an impish grin. “Maybe I just will.”
4
Shiloh awoke to the first rays of dawn peeking through her curtains. She stretched, yawned, and then lay there beneath the thick quilt, savoring the sheer luxury of her warm bed. The smell of coffee and something frying—was it bacon?—wafted up from the kitchen directly below her bedroom.
As luck would have it, she wasn’t assigned to breakfast duty this morning, so she hadn’t needed to get up an hour earlier than the rest of the boardinghouse residents. She had a good half hour to do her morning ablutions, dress, and read a few verses from her Bible before the bell rang for the first meal of the day. And she was in no particular hurry to jump up and face the ice-cold room.
Just five more minutes in bed, she promised herself, and then I’ll get up and get dressed. Just five minutes more, and then I’ll face the day ahead. She tucked the quilt more snugly beneath her chin, closed her eyes, and allowed her thoughts to drift.
Today I have to meet with Johnson and Douglas.
After the failed visit with Captain Jack yesterday, the realization didn’t fill her with any particular enthusiasm. Though both chiefs were said to be more friendly with Meeker, the reality was, of all the children in the two camps, only Chief Douglas’s son had attended school so far. From that, Shiloh could only surmise that Douglas and Johnson had chosen not to require any of their people to send their children to school. And that didn’t bode well for her attempts today to convince the two chiefs otherwise.
A sudden surge of frustration swept over her, followed quickly by fear. Fear that she was going to fail. That she’d accomplish nothing more than Josie had, and her contract would be canceled due to incompetence. That she’d be forced to leave in ignominious defeat, with no recommendation to ensure her finding a new job. That she’d have to slink home like some dog with its tail between its legs, pitiful and beaten. And oh, how Jordan would gloat.
Overcome with self-pity, Shiloh felt her eyes burn and a single tear trickle down her cheek. Angrily, she swiped it away. It wasn’t fair. Nathan Meeker had withheld vital information when he’d written her all those letters. If she’d known how bad things really were . . .
Shiloh expelled an exasperated breath. “You’d have come anyway,” she muttered to herself. “You’d have imagined you could accomplish what everyone else couldn’t. That’s always been your problem. Thinking you could do anything you set your mind to do.”
One would’ve thought she would have learned her lesson after that fiasco with Jesse. She’d set her mind on getting him to fit in on the ranch, to become a friend to all, and look how that had turned out. But her overly optimistic outlook had led her to believe it was youthful audacity that had led her astray. And she had soldiered on, attacking every obstacle set in her path and pretty much conquering them all. Well, at least until now.
Funny how Jesse seemed to be a part of the few—the only—failures in her life. Was he just bad luck for her and perhaps she for him? Even the consideration of such a possibility filled her with sadness. She had seen, felt something strong between them even all those years ago. As if . . . as if he were her other half, her soul mate. He had always seemed to understand her, even when she didn’t understand herself.
But that special bond had been torn asunder, shredded by nine years spent apart and lives lived in entirely different ways. Jesse had realized that from the start, there in the Bear Dance enclosure. She, though, naïve little fool that she was, hadn’t.
Tears flooded her eyes once more. “Dear Lord,” Shiloh prayed, “help me to let Jesse go, once and for all. I thought I had that day he rode away. I put him from my mind and heart, because to do otherwise was to endure a part of me being ripped away. But I know now that I hadn’t. I knew the moment I saw him again.
“Yet I must let him go. I do him no favors by trying to clutch at the remnants of what we once had. So, help me, Lord. Give me the strength to do this for Jesse’s sake, for I haven’t enough to do it for my own.”
As Shiloh wiped away the tears yet again, she gradually became aware of movement downstairs, of chairs scraping back in the dining room and voices lifted in laughter and talk. She flung back her quilt, sat up, and gasped at the cold air that assailed her. Then, gritting her teeth, she set her bare feet on the frigid floor and forced herself to hurry and dress.
There was no purpose served worrying about tomorrow, Shiloh resolved, harking back to a verse from Matthew. Tomorrow would take care of itself. Today had more than enough problems of its own to deal with.
By the time Shiloh exited the boardinghouse promptly at ten that morning, Jesse was already waiting outside. The day was cloudy with the sun struggling to break through, and a chill breeze blew, but it didn’t appear as if any snow was imminent. She fastened the top button of her wool coat, pulled her knit hat down more fully over her ears, and tugged on her mittens.
“You haven’t been out here long, have you?” she asked as she joined her scowling escort.
He was dressed in his usual buckskin leggings, shirt, and moccasins, and over it all he wore a long, fringed buckskin coat lined with wolf fur. His long black hair hung loose as always, and with his height, he appeared regal but very imposing. Yet again, Shiloh realized she no longer knew the man he had become.
“Worried about me, are you?” Jesse shot back, managing a halfhearted smile.
“Well, it is still winter in these mountains.”
“And most of the rest of Colorado as well. But don’t worry. I just got here a few minutes ago.”
Their gazes locked just then, and silence fell between them. As he stared down at her, Jesse’s glance flared hot and bright. Her mouth went dry. Her face felt warm. Then, as if suddenly realizing he was gawking, Jesse stepped back and indicated the encampment down toward the river.
“Let’s head on out, if you’re ready,” he said, his voice gone strangely husky. “We don’t want to keep them waiting.”
Shiloh forced her legs to move, though she couldn’t be sure exactly where she was placing her feet. Her head spun crazily for a brief moment and then cleared.
This was ridiculous! One look from Jesse and she was as giddy as some schoolgirl. Whatever was the matter with her?
“Who shall we visit first? Chief Douglas or Johnson?” she asked, trying to fill the uncomfortable silence with conversation.
“I thought Johnson. He’s the medicine man. And you’ll like Susan, one of his wives. She’s Chief Ouray’s sister.”
“Really?” Shiloh totally forgot her earlier discomfort with Jesse. “Ouray, the chief of all the Utes? Oh, I can’t wait to meet her!”
“I’d imagine so,” he said, his tone dry and matter-of-fact. “Susan and her husband are among the few Utes on the reservation who actually try to live the way Meeker and the government want the People to live.” He pointed to a house, with several tepees nearby, located to the southeast of the Agency near the river. “Meeker just recently built Johnson that house. He lives there with Susan and his other wives.”
Shiloh felt heartened by the information. If Jesse was determined not to help her, then she’d just find someone else. And Chief Johnson and his family, especially Susan if she shared her brother Ouray’s belief that the Utes should keep peace with the whites and learn their ways, might be just the allies she needed in her quest to get the children to attend school.
All the doubts and fears of earlier this morning slowly dissipated. If she was nothing else, she was determined and resourceful. And perhaps this was at least part of an answer to all her prayers of late. If she could make friends with Chief Johnson and Susan and engage them in helping her, then she
’d be free of further interaction with Jesse. He could go his way, and she could go hers.
She shot him a quick glance as they walked along, the crisp snow crunching beneath their feet, the sun finally piercing the clouds to shine warm and bright upon their faces. He had matured into a strikingly handsome man, with his dark good looks and finely wrought features. He was tall, strong, and proud. And he seemed, for all his surly ways with her, at least content to be where he felt he belonged.
Thank You, Lord, she silently offered up a prayer. Thank You for bringing us together again, just so I could know he lives and thrives.
“I’ve been meaning to mention a few things,” she said, deciding it was time to clear up any misconceptions he might have about her.
“Really?” He slanted her an inquiring look. “And what might they be?”
“I wasn’t the one who asked for you to assist me. After how you acted toward me when we first met at the Bear Dance, I’ll admit I wanted nothing else to do with you.”
He halted and turned to her. “Look, I’m sorry if I came across rather harshly. I just . . .” Jesse sighed and shook his head. “Well, it doesn’t matter. You know as well as I that no good can come of us resuming our friendship. Too much time has passed. Besides, you’re not a little girl anymore.”
For a brief moment, Shiloh was confused about what point Jesse was trying to make. Then her words to Josie last night rushed back with a vengeance, and she understood.
“If the man was good and strong and brave, and God-fearing too, of course, I wouldn’t care what or who his ancestors were,” she had told her friend. “But I also wouldn’t go out of my way to seek someone of mixed or different blood. The cruel, intolerant people would make a life together difficult. And not only for us but for any children we might have.”
Was that what Jesse was skirting, Shiloh wondered, when he made mention that she was a grown woman now? But if he was, did it mean he now found her attractive, even desirable? At the consideration, joy surged through her before she firmly quashed it.
No, it wasn’t possible. Jesse had surely meant only that they were now both adults and knew how poorly looked upon a friendship between a half-breed and an unmarried white woman would be. He had only her best interests at heart. A serious involvement with Jesse, even a serious if platonic friendship, would surely jeopardize her employment here.
“You’re right, of course.” She turned and resumed their trek down to the Ute encampments. “I just wanted you to know I never brought up your name to Mr. Meeker.”
“Well, I can guess who did then. Not that that matters either.”
“No, it doesn’t.” Shiloh hesitated, choosing her next words carefully. “I also wanted you to know that nothing you ever confided in me will be shared with anyone else. I won’t dishonor the friendship we once had by indulging in gossip about you.”
“I appreciate that, Shiloh.”
She wanted to say more, about how she’d always cherished his friendship, had cared so much about him, and had always wanted the best for him. But she also feared what might rush out if she dared crack open those floodgates. No possible good would be served if she did, so Shiloh clamped down hard on any response and nodded instead.
Fortunately, they drew near the house of Chief Johnson just then, which put an end to further conversation. It was a tidy little log cabin with a pen on one side, in which Shiloh noted chickens industriously pecking at a scattering of grain thrown atop the frozen ground. Two goats were tied nearby, calmly munching on a pile of dried brush. And behind the cabin was a corral that held several horses and three cows. A fallow garden patch stood on the other side of the corral.
Their approach must have been noted from a distance. As they paused before the front door, it opened, and a Ute male walked out. He was of medium height and wore the usual braids, buckskin leggings, and moccasins, and a dark blue trade cloth shirt with a yellow bandanna around his neck.
He extended his arm to Jesse and smiled. “So, are you enjoying escorting this pretty one around to the camps?” he asked in Ute. “You’re the envy of all the young braves, you know.”
Jesse’s mouth quirked wryly as he clasped the other man’s arm in greeting, then released it. “Let them be jealous. It’ll do them good.”
He turned to Shiloh and gestured to Johnson. “This is Chief Johnson. And this,” he added, gesturing now to Shiloh, “is Miss Shiloh Wainwright.”
Once again, she surprised another Ute by speaking their language. “I have heard many fine things about you from Mr. Meeker and am pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”
Johnson laughed in delight. “Come, come.” He stepped aside and motioned her into his home. “My wives will be happy to have yet another white woman who they can talk with. Susan will be especially pleased.”
Susan was a large, handsome woman, and it soon became evident that she, above all of Johnson’s wives, had the most influence over him. She was dressed in a pale, almost white, mountain sheepskin dress—which Shiloh knew to be a softer, thinner hide than deerskin and far preferred by the women—that was heavily fringed, painted, and decorated with beading and porcupine quills. On her wrists and arms, she wore silver Navaho trade bracelets; around her waist a wide, beaded belt; and on her feet, the usual moccasins.
Though the other wives were dressed similarly, Susan’s garb was the most ornate, and Shiloh knew from the clothing of the women that Johnson was a successful man. She recalled Josie telling her that besides being the medicine man and a powerful chief, Johnson, along with Captain Jack, had been a scout at one time for the US Army. Both men understood a lot about the ways of the US government when it came to its treatment of the Indians and weren’t to be trifled with. She only hoped Nathan Meeker fully appreciated this.
The interior of the house, though simply furnished, had a table to dine upon and crockery and dishes that were neatly stacked on shelves on the wall. A few colorful, woven rugs decorated the floor, and the spots not covered were swept scrupulously clean. Something savory-smelling was cooking over a pot at the fireplace, carefully tended by another woman Shiloh assumed was a wife.
She smiled and offered her hand when Johnson introduced her to Susan and then his other wives. Aside from Susan, the other women were shy and hurried back to whatever they were doing. Susan, however, soon motioned Johnson and Jesse away. Taking Shiloh by the arm, she led her over to sit at the table.
“You speak our language well,” the Ute woman said. “How did you learn it?”
“When I was young,” Shiloh replied, “my parents hired a Ute woman, the wife of Buckskin Joe, one of our ranch hands, to help with the housework and the care of my sister and me. Her name was Kanosh and I loved her. She taught me her language at first by playing games, and later, by conversing only in Ute. In turn, when I was older, I taught her how to read, which, I suppose, was the beginning of my dream to become a teacher.”
“And your dream, as well, to become a teacher for the People?”
“Yes.” Encouraged by Susan’s friendly manner, Shiloh relaxed and continued. “Kanosh had given me so much over the years, and I saw how learning to read helped her and her husband in their dealings with their white brothers and sisters, that I came to realize I might be able to accomplish much as a teacher to the Indians. Especially the Utes,” she added with a grin, “because I spoke their language and understood some of their beliefs and customs.”
“But you’ve not been received well by most of our people, have you?”
Shiloh hesitated. How much should she admit to? Susan appeared to be a forthright woman who, through her husband, likely possessed some influence with the other Utes. And her being the sister of the chief of all the Utes was no small advantage either.
“No, not yet,” she confessed. “But I’ve only just begun, and I know it takes time to win people’s trust. If you’ve any suggestions—besides giving out gifts,” Shiloh added with a chuckle, “I’d be most appreciative. I’m expected to start school by May
first.”
“Father Meeker doesn’t always understand the ways of the People,” Susan said, a small frown forming between her brows. “He expects us to change our customs just because he is told by his chiefs to have us do so. But those things take time, if they will ever change.”
“It’s not my intent or wish to change your customs.”
Even as she spoke the words, she struggled with their veracity. Teaching the children to read and write would change the Utes. Progress always ended up changing some things. But she hoped learning the written word would help preserve many of the old ways for posterity.
A shrewd look came into Susan’s eyes. “Nonetheless, we both know that with education, change will come.”
“Yes, it will,” Shiloh admitted. “But hopefully only change for the good.”
“Ah, but that is the real question, is it not? Who will be the ones to determine that? The whites or the People?”
Susan had put words to a legitimate fear of the Utes, indeed likely a fear of all the Indian tribes. And, for the most part so far, it had been the white man’s way that had prevailed. Still, though Shiloh was against a lot of the changes forced on the Indians by her own people, there wasn’t much she could do about them. What she had control of, though, she intended to wield with the utmost respect for Ute traditions.
She released a long, slow breath. “All I want to do is teach the children the skills they’ll need, as the life around them changes with the arrival of more and more whites. So that the Utes will possess the knowledge to ensure they are fairly treated. So they won’t be so easily lied to or cheated out of what is lawfully theirs. So that they can take their rightful place alongside the whites in the growth and prosperity of this great nation.”
Johnson’s wife was silent for a time, and Shiloh knew she was carefully considering her words. Had she been too grandiose in her aspirations, sounding like a lot of the men who had promised the Indians many fine things and never meant a word that fell from their lips? She hoped not. It was her dearest wish to accomplish all the things she had spoken of. It was her dearest wish because she truly, and deeply, cared about the People.
Heart of the Rockies Collection Page 36