She’s so beautiful, he thought as he gazed down at her. And she’s now mine.
The only obstacle that lay before him was convincing her to accept that.
Tomorrow was soon enough to worry about that, though. After two days without sleep, he was mightily tired. Jesse lay down beside Shiloh and closed his eyes. Tomorrow was indeed soon enough to deal with everything that lay before them. And with the massacre at the White River Agency and the women’s capture, surely the least of his problems would be taking Shiloh to be his wife.
A terrible ache in her shoulder woke Shiloh the next morning. She opened her eyes and stared up the sides of a tepee until her gaze caught on a patch of blue sky through the smoke hole. A passing confusion swept over her. Where was she?
Then the memory of the fight between Jesse and Broken Antler filled her. The agonizing pain of the knife ripping through her shoulder. Jesse catching her as she fell. Blackness . . .
Her hand went to her right shoulder, which was covered by a thick bandage. Someone had treated her wound, and it didn’t seem to be bleeding. If all went well, she thought with a touch of black humor, she just might survive.
Someone stirred on her other side. Shiloh levered to her good elbow and looked down. Jesse lay there, fully clothed, on top of the buffalo robe that covered her.
Her gaze softened. He looked so young and peaceful in his sleep, his mouth soft and vulnerable, his frequently tight jaw relaxed. A slight beard stubble shadowed his face, and his long, black hair lay tousled and free.
Jumbled emotions churned within her breast. Love, gratitude for what he’d risked in saving her from Broken Antler, happiness at being with him once again, and how comfortable it felt with him sleeping beside her. Indeed, everything about this precious moment in time seemed so right, so good.
As if wakened by the sense of someone staring at him, Jesse opened his eyes. There was an immediate alertness and realization of where he was, and with whom, in his gaze. Then relief brightened his face, and he sat up.
“You’re finally awake.”
Shiloh smiled up at him. “Evidently so.” She glanced around. “Is there any water? I’m so thirsty.”
Jesse reached over near where his head had laid and picked up a leather water bag. He uncorked it and helped Shiloh hold it to her lips. She drank deeply before finally lowering it.
“Thank you. That really helped.”
“So, how do you feel?” He eyed her closely before stoppering the water bag and setting it aside.
“Except for this pain in my shoulder,” she said, shrugging it gingerly, “pretty good. How about you?”
His mouth quirked. “Just fine. I wasn’t hurt yesterday, if you recall.”
“And I’m glad for that. If you hadn’t turned when you did, though . . .”
He sighed and shook his head. “I’d have rather taken that knife than see it hurt you.”
“And I would’ve gladly taken it than see it kill you.”
Their gazes locked, and for a long moment, Jesse stared down at her with the most tender look she’d ever seen. Then someone slapped the tent flap from outside, and the moment was gone.
A head peeked through the partially lifted flap. “Everyone awake in there?” an elderly woman asked. “I’ve got breakfast.”
Jesse immediately sprung to his feet and took the bowls of food from her. “Come in, Kwana. Shiloh’s finally awake and she looks good.”
The woman crawled into the tepee and over to Shiloh. “So, you’re feeling better, are you?” she asked, her dark eyes brimming with friendly curiosity. “You gave us all a scare yesterday, before we finally got your wound to stop bleeding. Your man was almost mad with worry for you.”
Your man . . . The words were startling yet nonetheless stirred a wild joy in Shiloh. She blushed and cut Jesse a slanting look. He sat there calmly, as if he accepted the title.
“I’m sorry to have caused you any trouble. I just wasn’t quite as fast as Jesse was in dodging that knife.”
Confusion clouded Kwana’s eyes, and she looked to Jesse. He smiled. “That’s Shiloh’s name for me. My white name.”
“Oh, of course.” The old woman pointed to the two bowls of steaming mush. “Eat now, before your food gets cold.”
The mush tasted wonderful, warm, and flavored with honey and goat’s milk, but Shiloh found she couldn’t finish even half of it. With an apologetic look at Kwana, she finally set it aside.
“Much as I enjoyed it,” she said, indicating the bowl of mush, “I just can’t eat it all right now. Guess I was so thirsty, I drank too much water.”
“Eat the rest when you can,” the old woman said, climbing to her feet. She looked to Jesse. “We break camp soon. We’re heading to the valley near Rifle Creek.”
Jesse shot Shiloh a worried look. “I don’t know if she’ll be able to tolerate such a long trip. That’s a full day’s ride.”
“I know. But Jack said to tell you that, no matter what, your woman comes.”
Shiloh saw Jesse’s hands fist and his gaze narrow. “I can ride, if you hold me in front of you,” she hurriedly said. “That way, if I get too tired, I can always lean back against you and sleep.”
He looked at her, his brow furrowed in thought. “I suppose that might work,” he said after a time. “Unless you think you’d do better on a travois.”
She was quick to shake her head. Even with an injured shoulder, the idea of snuggling up against Jesse was far too attractive to pass up. “I’ll be fine riding with you. You’ll see.”
“I hope so.” Though he didn’t look very convinced, he seemed to accept her plan.
A half hour later, now wearing Jesse’s red shirt to replace her ruined blouse, Shiloh laid outside on his pile of buffalo robes and watched Jesse take down and pack his tepee, then place it on a travois he then hooked to his second pony. By the time the rest of the camp was ready to depart, Shiloh had finished the mush, drank a good amount of water, and felt almost normal again. She soon discovered, however, how weak she still was when she tried to walk the short distance to his other pony they’d both be riding.
“I don’t think I can mount on my own,” she said, giving him an apologetic smile. “Could you help—”
Before she could even finish her request, Jesse grasped her about her waist and lifted her up to sit on his pony. Then, with a quick leap, he joined her.
Shiloh glanced back at him as he reached around her to take up the reins. “Well, I suppose that answers my question.”
“Just lean against me and rest,” he said. “No matter what you might think, this is going to be a very long and hard day for you.”
“Maybe so,” she said, settling back against him and his strong, buckskin-clad body. “But it has to be done.”
“Yes, unfortunately it does.” He urged his horse forward until they reached where his other pony attached to the travois waited. Taking up the long rope tied to its halter, Jesse once more signaled his pony to set out.
Before them, a long line of Utes led the way, mostly women and children, along with the old men. A strange sense of contentment filled Shiloh. She was safe, now that Jesse was here. Though there was no assurance what tomorrow might bring, at this particular moment in time she no longer cared. All that mattered was that she was with Jesse.
They arrived after dark that night, in a beautiful valley with lush grass and near a creek that ran with clear, cold water. Shiloh had slept off and on all day but was still exhausted when Jesse finally lowered her from his pony. Her legs nearly gave out beneath her. Only his quick dismount to grab her by her arms prevented her from crumpling to the ground.
It was too dark to set up tepees that night, so everyone hurried to build campfires to cook a hasty supper, then turned in beneath bear and buffalo robes with the star-studded sky as their roof. Jesse was more than happy to cuddle Shiloh against him and was glad when she didn’t protest about the undue familiarity of their embrace. Of course, he thought, that was likely more because she wa
s half asleep when he climbed beneath the buffalo robes than because she actually wished him there.
Still, the ease with which she’d snuggled against him most of the day, her ready smiles, and occasional bursts of happy chatter reassured him. He knew she felt comfortable being around him, and maybe even enjoyed it. But then the doubts crept back in to erode his earlier optimism.
Compared to her fate at Broken Antler’s hands, or being beaten by some of the more irate squaws, or even being tortured to death as he’d heard Douglas had advised, Shiloh knew how blessed she was to now be under his protection. And she likely imagined the fact that he’d won the battle to possess her was in name only, just to keep her safe. After all, she’d never made mention of her being his woman now, or asked any questions on the subject.
But then, there were those times when she looked at him with those big eyes of hers, and that look bespoke more than just friendship. Yet were her feelings for him strong enough to cast aside the life she’d always known? Cast aside her family and friends to live the life he’d chosen?
A chill breeze wafted across the valley, setting the tall grasses to gently swaying. The usual sounds of camp life stilled as everyone took to their beds, the quiet broken only by an occasional snort of a pony, a dog barking, or the bleating of their small flock of goats and sheep. Good sounds, comforting sounds, familiar and beloved.
Shiloh stirred, mumbled something, then settled back against him. He leaned down, tenderly brushed her wild, glorious hair aside, and kissed her forehead. She was so beautiful, and he loved her so.
Surely that love would convince her, in time, to accept this life and him as husband. She was his now, leastwise in the Indian view of things. And, whether she liked it or not, that was the way it was going to be.
She was, after all, no longer a free woman but a captive. And he didn’t intend ever to let her go.
18
“Please, Jesse,” Shiloh said two days later. “I’m going crazy just laying around in your tepee and being waited on. Let me help with some of the work.”
He didn’t answer right off but busied himself stacking the firewood he’d been gathering into a neat pile nearby. Finally, though, he met her gaze. “You need to rest that shoulder until it’s well healed. And that pretty much makes you one-handed for a while longer.”
“A person can do a lot with one hand,” she countered. “I could help gather wood. I could make bread and do a lot of the cooking. And I could even air out the buffalo robes and—”
“You also need to rest and regain your strength,” he interjected. “You still tire easily, and you still look a little pale.”
“And you’re being overprotective! I’m not a child, you know.”
“Fine,” Jesse said with a roll of his eyes. “Come down to the creek with me while I fetch water. You can pick up any tinder you find along the way.”
Grinning broadly, Shiloh shoved to her feet. “Good. It’s about time I start pulling my own weight. You’re doing squaw work, and all the men are starting to make fun of you.”
At the sharp glance he sent her, Shiloh nodded. “Oh, don’t think I don’t hear things. It’s my shoulder that was hurt, not my ears.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter anyway.” Jesse picked up a large woven willow basket by its wooden handle, took her by her good arm, and began to head them down toward the creek. “How I choose to treat you is my business and no one else’s. Besides, until you came, I had to fend for myself. It’s not like I had women hurrying to help me whenever I called.”
She smirked. “That’s not what I heard. A few of the women told me you had several maidens all but falling over themselves to bring you meals, fetch your water, and gather your firewood.”
He shot her a sardonic look. “And did they also tell you I put a stop to that as soon as I could? Encouraging that sort of behavior would’ve only gotten those young women’s hopes up, and I was in no hurry to take another wife.”
“Well, no, they didn’t tell me that.” Shiloh blew out an exasperated breath. “And here I thought I’d better watch my step around some of those pretty girls, in case they were jealous of me.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because I’m living with you now, and they’re not.”
“You’re living with me because you’re my woman now. They know that.”
Shiloh halted and stared up at him. “I’m your what?”
“My woman.” His look was quizzical. “What did you think that fight between Broken Antler and me was about? A way to get some knife practice?”
Her mouth dropped open before she managed to snap it shut. “Well, no, I never thought that. And I’m sure the others all think we’re . . . er . . . married, but I didn’t expect you to think . . . to feel obligated to me in that way. I know you fought for me because you’re my friend, and that’s the only reason you did it.”
“On the contrary,” Jesse said. “As far as the People and I are concerned, yes, you are my wife. Come on, Shiloh, you know Ute customs well enough to know what constitutes a Ute marriage. Sleeping together is considered enough. Though, if you want the full experience, I suppose we could have Jack throw a blanket over us.”
“But . . . but sleeping together surely doesn’t just mean sleeping.”
His expression went solemn, and a light flared in his eyes. “Well, no, it doesn’t. But I thought we might wait on that until you’re well healed.”
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Jesse spoke so matter-of-factly about what he considered was their marriage. A marriage that wasn’t sanctioned in a church by a minister, nor one that he’d asked permission of her brothers, nor one he’d even received her agreement upon.
Yet Shiloh also knew that every custom accepted by the Utes had been fulfilled, and in every way that mattered to him, Jesse considered himself a Ute. She was also a Ute captive and could be treated in any manner they wished to treat her. She had just never thought that Jesse, knowing her and the white man’s customs, would imagine she’d accept such a marriage.
“I’m deeply grateful,” Shiloh carefully began, “for you rescuing me from Broken Antler. Sooner or later, though, I expect to be rescued, along with Josie, Arvilla, and Flora Ellen and her children. Until then, we can pretend to be husband and wife to fulfill everyone’s expectations. But, once I’m gone, you can marry whomever you really wish to wed.”
“This is no pretend marriage for me, Shiloh.”
For a long moment, Shiloh stared up at him, shocked speechless. Then, glancing around, she found a fallen log and walked over and sat down on it.
Jesse didn’t move from where he was standing. “Say something,” he finally demanded, his voice gone harsh and strained. “Don’t just sit there and look sick and horrified.”
“I-I’m not sick and horrified,” she finally managed to croak out. “It’s just all so sudden and unexpected. Are you saying you really wanted to marry me, or that now that you’ve committed yourself, you feel honor bound to see it through?”
“Would it matter to you either way?”
Shiloh gave a strangled laugh. “Oh, most definitely!”
He eyed her warily, then sighed and made his way over to sit beside her. “I really wanted to marry you.” He didn’t meet her gaze but continued to stare off in the distance.
“Why?” Though his words gladdened her, after all this time and turmoil between them, she couldn’t help but find this surprising pronouncement hard to believe. “Why now, when you’ve made such a big deal of avoiding me and telling me not to come back?”
Jesse sighed again and rubbed his eyes with one hand. “Because, besides the fact I’d already made up my mind to court you, by the time I discovered the Agency had been overrun and that you were gone and in great danger, the thought of losing you scared me to death.” He turned to steadily meet her gaze. The ardent look burning in his eyes all but sucked the breath from her body. “And because I’ve always loved you, Shiloh. Always.”
“You cert
ainly have had a most unsettling way of showing it,” she said with a shaky laugh.
“Kind of comes from being pretty unsettled about you, I guess.”
“How’s that? When have I ever acted like I didn’t want to be with you?”
“It was never you.” Jesse looked away. “It was me. I thought . . . well, I thought it’d never work between us.”
“Why, because you’re a half-breed who hates white men and wants to live with the Utes?”
He eyed her with amusement. “Leave it to you to cut right to the chase.”
“Might as well get it out in the open, once and for all.” She scooted close to him. “Because you being a half-breed doesn’t matter to me and never has. I love you. I don’t care who your mother or father was. As I hope you won’t hold it against me who mine were either.”
Jesse stared at her blankly. Then the light dawned in his eyes. “Because they’re white, you mean?”
“Yes.” Shiloh grinned. “Knowing how much you hate the white man, of course.”
“I don’t hate all white men. Just the ones who lie, cheat, and kill my people.”
Shiloh laughed and pushed him with her good hand. “Oh, well that really narrows it down to a very few people then. And here I thought you hated just about anyone who wasn’t an Indian.”
He managed a sheepish smile. “I suppose I might have exaggerated a bit. But, after some bad experiences, I just chose to take my chances with the People instead.”
She took his hand and, lifting it to her lips, kissed his palm. “But now, because you love me, you’re willing to open your heart to some white men again.”
“Like whom would you be talking about?” he asked, his tone guarded.
“My family, of course.” Shiloh smiled brightly up at him. “Surely you know you can trust them?”
“Of course, especially your brother Cord and your sister Jordan.”
Her smile faded a bit. “Cord will come around sooner or later. And Jordan . . . well, she’s changed a lot since her injury. She’s softer, gentler, and I don’t think she holds you to blame anymore.” Shiloh paused. “I hope not anyway.”
Heart of the Rockies Collection Page 53