5 

The following visit to Chief Douglas’s camp yesterday didn’t go nearly as well, Jesse thought as he brushed his pony the next morning. He’d suspected that Douglas, for all his seemingly friendly overtures to Meeker and the other whites, would eventually find some excuse to turn Shiloh down. And his suspicions were more than amply confirmed.

The failure to pay the Utes for the land they’d ceded to the US government and other treaty failures were just the beginning of the chief’s diatribe, all of it directed at poor Shiloh. Then he’d launched into a speech about the arrears in annuity payments owed the Indians, and the rumors that they were to be moved to a reservation in the hated Indian Territory. To top it all off, Douglas finished with a complaint that Meeker refused to sell them the guns and ammunition they needed to do their hunting, forcing them to buy the weapons off the reservation at greatly inflated prices. All in all, it swiftly became apparent that most of the White River Utes—Douglas included—didn’t particularly like the unbending, rules-and-regulations-driven Indian agent.

What exactly had set Douglas off yesterday was a mystery, but the end result was the same. Shiloh had barely been able to get a word in before or after the chief had begun speaking. And once he was done, he’d stomped off with his wives in tow, leaving her standing there in stunned silence.

He’d been tempted, Jesse admitted as he moved next to picking out small stones and mud from his horse’s hooves, to apologize for Douglas’s rude and inhospitable behavior. Then, on second thought, he’d decided it best to leave things the way they stood.

After all, he’d never intended for her to succeed. And now, with Johnson and Susan’s earlier agreement to assist her, Shiloh’s growing optimism needed a bit of deflating. His plan had always been to get her so discouraged she’d give up and go home.

It was good, as well, that she begin to comprehend the general sentiments the Utes held about Meeker. So far, the point of view had all been one-sided—Meeker’s side. Shiloh couldn’t have a true concept of what she was facing until she began to hear what the People had to say. The majority of the People, who didn’t subscribe to Johnson and Susan’s belief that they should learn and live the white man’s way.

“And what’s so serious on such a fine day,” a voice unexpectedly pierced Jesse’s thoughts, “that’d make you wear such a forbidding frown?”

Jesse dropped his pony’s hoof and whirled around. Persune sat atop his black pony, grinning down at him. “Rather, what’s brought you all the way to Jack’s camp?” Jesse asked his friend. “Your wives running out of things for you to do around your own tepee?”

Persune chuckled. “More like the harder I worked, the more they found, so I told them I was going fishing. If the fish are closer to the surface, we can try spearing them.” He motioned to the spear tied to his back. “And if they’re deeper, there’s always the hook and line,” he added, indicating the empty woven grass bag to hold his catch and several handmade fishing lines with bone hooks that hung from his belt. “Care to come along?”

The idea held much appeal. Though they were still eating the venison he’d caught over a week ago, some fresh fish would be a nice change of diet. Still, he had that war shield to mend and a lance tip and knife blade to sharpen . . .

“Yes. I’ll come.” Jesse made his way to his tepee and crawled inside. Ten minutes later, they were riding from camp and headed toward the river.

They didn’t talk much until they reached the river, secured their horses, and tried for a time to spear fish. When that proved fruitless, the two men settled down to line fishing from a big boulder jutting over the river’s rushing waters. The sun was warm, the rock’s surface comfortable, and though the fish didn’t seem to be in any hurry to accommodate them and latch onto their hooks, the time passed pleasantly enough.

“I was away when you brought the red-haired woman to our camp yesterday,” Persune said after a while. “I heard, though, your visit with Douglas didn’t go well.”

At the reminder, Jesse grimaced. “You know how unpleasant Douglas can be when he’s in a foul mood. I don’t understand, though, why he chose to take out his frustrations with Meeker on Shiloh.”

His friend shrugged, pulled up his line from the calm spot of water on the far side of the boulder, glanced at it briefly to see if the hook was still baited—which it was—and then lowered it back into the river. “Sometimes, when the dung gets stacked too high and deep, the heat builds up and the pile finally bursts into flame. For Douglas, this might have been one of those times.”

“Perhaps so.” Jesse sighed. “I just felt sorry for her.”

From the corner of his vision, he saw Persune slant a curious look his way and belatedly wished he hadn’t shared that particular insight. Though they could usually talk about anything and do so without regrets, Jesse instinctively knew he had made a serious blunder. A blunder that was soon confirmed.

“So, you have feelings for the red-haired one, do you?”

Jesse bit back an irritated curse. “No.” He punctuated that reply with a shake of his head. “Or at least not in the way I think you mean. I’d feel sorry for anyone forced to endure Douglas’s wrath. Well, at least anyone not deserving of it.”

“Well, if that’s so, I suppose it won’t matter then that Broken Antler has expressed interest in the woman.”

“What?” Jesse’s head whipped around from the fishing line he was watching. “Broken Antler? What does he want with Shiloh?”

“He wants the same thing several other men want, once they saw her womanly face and form, and of course, that red hair. He wishes to offer for her to become his wife.” As he replied, Persune’s expression was suspiciously innocent. “And he was wondering, if you’re not planning on asking her, what you thought might be a fair bride price for such a special woman. Four or five ponies?”

Jesse clamped down hard on his anger—and a surprisingly fierce surge of protectiveness—and forced himself not to add further fuel to his friend’s curiosity. “Shiloh’s worth a lot more than all the ponies in Broken Antler’s possession. But it doesn’t matter. White courtship customs are different from ours. You did explain that to him, didn’t you?”

“How could I? I hardly understand them myself.”

“She won’t have him at any rate. Besides, her family lives far, far south of here. The usual bargaining with the parents would be impossible.”

Persune scratched his jaw. “That would certainly make the courtship more difficult. But perhaps since she is independent of her family now, the choice is but hers. And how can you be so certain she won’t have him? It’s her decision, not yours.”

“Broken Antler already has a wife, and he doesn’t treat her very well. Until he learns how, he doesn’t deserve to take a second wife.”

“That may be, but it’s not really up to you or me, is it? After all, you’ve already said you’ve no feelings for the red-haired one. And if you’re so certain she’ll reject him, what does it matter anyway?”

As Jesse sat there, silently fuming as he cast about for some plausible counter to Persune’s comments, the admission that he actually did care about Shiloh gradually penetrated his awareness. Maybe not in some romantic way, of course, he hastily clarified, but as someone who was concerned with her welfare. As an old friend if nothing else.

“Just tell Broken Antler to stay away from her,” Jesse gritted out. “Shiloh’s got enough on her hands right now without having to deal with a Ute courtship ritual.”

“Oh, so now I’m the bearer of threats, am I?” The other man gave a disgusted snort. “And should I tell all the others, too, the same thing? That Nuaru says leave Red-hair alone or else?”

Jesse could just imagine a long line of braves waiting their turn to fight him. Not that the consideration concerned him—he was a feared warrior and could likely vanquish most or all of them, one by one. Still, the ludicrousness of such an act did give him pause. He didn’t wish to court Shiloh himself, but he refused to allow anyone else to court her? He had to admit it didn’t make much sense.

He released a frustrated breath. He couldn’t protect Shiloh from every possible occurrence, and this was one of them. She’d just have to deal with it on her own. Which probably—the sudden realization flashed through Jesse’s mind—wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. He sincerely doubted she’d accept Broken Antler’s—or any of the other Ute braves’—offer of marriage.

What might happen, however, was that she’d find it yet another reason to cut short this futile and foolish undertaking of hers. The image of Shiloh being visited by one brave after another, a string of ponies and other gifts in hand, filled Jesse with amusement. Indeed, the offers of marriage could be just the thing to help hasten her departure.

“You’ve made a very good point, my friend,” he said. “I don’t have any right to interfere. Tell them all that they should do what they must. And if she rejects them the first time or two, encourage them to return again and again with even more ponies.”

Persune’s crestfallen expression was almost comical, and it was all Jesse could do to keep a straight face. His friend’s response also confirmed a surprising matchmaking streak Jesse had never before noted. Perhaps, in some backhanded fashion, Persune hoped that if Jesse was successful in taking Shiloh to wife, Josie Meeker would more eagerly consider him.

That dream, however, was as doomed to failure as any Jesse could’ve had, if he’d chosen to have any. Which he didn’t.

Just then something tugged on the end of his fishing line. Jesse glanced down and saw a flash of silver.

“I’ve got one!” he cried, and set to battling the fish who seemed quite adamantly determined not to be caught. And, blessedly, in the ensuing minutes, further thought of Shiloh Wainwright and the consideration of what a courtship of her would be like fled his mind.

After four initial proposals of marriage, followed by two repeat offers in the course of one week, Shiloh was nearly beside herself with embarrassment. Nearly everyone in the boardinghouse was teasing her nonstop, and it had gotten so she actually dreaded mealtime.

Most of her Ute suitors were polite and kind, and it near to broke her heart to see the slump in their shoulders as she tried, as gently as she could, to explain she did not wish to marry anyone right now. One brave, however, a stocky, hard-muscled man with a long, ugly scar down the right side of his face and cold black eyes only seemed to get angrier each time she turned him down. And she didn’t care for the hungry looks he gave her whenever they happened to see each other.

“When will it stop, Josie?” Shiloh all but wailed one Saturday afternoon two weeks later as they took their daily constitutional down to the White River and back. “Everyone finds this courtship endeavor amusing but me.”

“Well, not a lot happens around here for entertainment,” her friend replied, waving at Frank Dresser and Art Thompson, two of the Agency employees working on one of the storehouses they passed. “Father, unfortunately, isn’t one for dancing or anything as frivolous as drinking, smoking, or gambling. So your goings-on with those Ute braves is quite the talk right now.”

“I just hope they stop soon. I don’t fancy being the topic of conversation or the butt of jokes, even as well meant as they might be.”

“Oh, it’s just good fun. When Persune was trying to court me awhile back, I too had to bear some teasing and talk.” Josie’s expression sobered. “Of course, Father quickly put an end to all that, scolding me soundly for encouraging Persune with the visits I was paying to the camps. When I asked him how was I to convince the parents to send their children to school if they didn’t get to know and trust me, he finally calmed down a bit. Just count yourself fortunate that you don’t have a father nearby to lecture you about your behavior around men.”

Shiloh’s heart twisted. “I think I’d rather have a father alive to lecture me than be without one entirely.”

“Oh, Shiloh, I’m so sorry!” Josie halted and grabbed her arm. “That was thoughtless of me, complaining about my father, when you no longer have one. And you’re right. I shouldn’t be so hard on my father. He means well and only has my best interests at heart.”

“I didn’t tell you to make you feel badly.” Shiloh’s smile was wistful. “Only to remind the both of us that we should strive always to treat others with patience and compassion. One never knows, after all, how long one has with a dear one.”

Josie nodded. “So true. So true.” She paused and stared over Shiloh’s shoulder. “Speaking of treating others with patience and compassion,” she said, “there’s someone headed our way who equally deserves the same kindness. Or rather,” she added slyly, “your kindness. Personally, I have no problem treating him cordially.”

With a sinking feeling, Shiloh turned to find Jesse headed their way. Whatever did he want? Considering she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since the disastrous visit with Douglas two weeks ago, and that she really didn’t need him until she chose to make another trip to Jack’s camp, it was surprising to see him headed their way.

The Chief Douglas fiasco notwithstanding, she was at least making some progress with the women in Johnson’s camp. And that was in no way thanks to Jesse. A lot of her good fortune was due to Susan paving the way for her in the past couple of weeks, but to Shiloh’s credit, it was her own efforts that had won over Susan.

Still, Josie was right. Everyone should be treated with patience and compassion—at least to the best of one’s abilities. It was just that, at times, some people strained the limits of such actions, and one of those people was surely Jesse Blackwater.

Funny, she thought, how these days being around Jesse set her on edge. She’d never felt like that when they were younger. But then, in the days back at the ranch, they’d both been so young and inexperienced in the ways of the world. Her more so than Jesse, of course, but still . . .

As he drew near, Shiloh pasted on a smile of welcome and stepped forward to greet him. Best to seize the advantage, she resolved, and take charge before Josie got it into her head to do so. There was no telling where the conversation might lead if her gregarious friend got into another matchmaking mood.

“I haven’t seen you in a while,” Shiloh said to the tall man who drew up before them. “What brings you all the way from Jack’s camp to the Agency?”

“Jack wants to see you again,” Jesse replied without preamble. “When can you be ready to ride there with me?”

Shiloh took a moment to digest that interesting bit of news and, as she did, a frisson of excitement vibrated through her. Was it possible? Was Captain Jack reconsidering allowing her to speak with his people? Oh, let it be so!

“Any idea what Jack wants to see me for?” she asked, tamping down any outward display of pleasure at Jesse’s curt pronouncement. Though he tried to hide it, she could tell he wasn’t particularly happy with Jack’s summons.

Jesse shrugged. “Who knows? I didn’t think it was my business to ask.”

“No, I’d imagine not,” Shiloh muttered under her breath. She paused as Josie apparently decided it was time to join them. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so we can’t leave then. But Monday would be a good day to go, I think,” she replied as she sent her friend a quick glance, then looked back to Jesse. “Considering the long ride there and back, it’s already too late to head out today.”

“Suits me fine. The day after tomorrow at ten in the morning then?”

She nodded. A sudden thought struck her. “You won’t ride all the way home today, then come back on Monday to fetch me, will you?”

“No.” A wry grin tipped the corner of his mouth. “I figured you’d want to go in the next day or so. I told Jack I’d stay with Persune and his family until then.”

“Oh. Good.” Shiloh paused again, not sure what else needed saying, especially with the stilted conversation they were already having.

Josie, however, seemed to possess no such sense of reticence. “Perhaps you’d like to join us for supper at the boardinghouse then? We’re having beefsteak pie and boiled cabbage, and chocolate bread pudding for dessert. You could sit with Shiloh and me, so you’d have people you know to talk with.”

Yes, Josie was definitely back into her matchmaking mode, Shiloh thought with exasperation. Still, the consideration of spending some time with Jesse this evening wasn’t altogether unpleasant. She doubted, though, that he’d accept. She wasn’t disappointed.

“I’ve already made plans to share supper with Persune and his family,” he said, smiling politely down at Josie. “But I thank you for the invitation.”

“Well, perhaps another time then,” the other woman replied, regret clearly written all over her face.

Jesse solemnly nodded. “Yes, perhaps another time.”

An uncomfortable silence again fell between them. Finally, Shiloh couldn’t bear it a moment longer. She turned to Josie.

“We really should be on our way if we want to complete our full walk before it’s time to return to set the table for supper.”

“I suppose you’re right,” her friend said, looking uncertainly from her to Jesse.

“And I need to go as well,” Jesse said. “I promised to help Persune and a few of the others repair some of the pony pens.” He caught Shiloh’s gaze. “Until Monday then?”

“Yes.” She gave a quick nod. “Until Monday.”

With that, Jesse spun on his heel and strode away, heading back toward the river and Chief Douglas’s camp. The two women stood there for a few seconds, then Josie smiled.

“He most definitely likes you.”

Shiloh rolled her eyes. “Oh, Josie, don’t start. Just don’t start.” She stepped out, leaving her friend standing there, a contrived look of confusion on her face.

“Start what?” Josie called to her. “Truly, sometimes I don’t have the slightest inkling what you’re talking about.”

Then, apparently realizing Shiloh had no intention of discussing the subject any further, Josie gathered her skirts and ran after her.

Someone exiting the tepee and the tent flap slapping closed woke Jesse just before dawn on Monday morning. He yawned, stretched, and then pulled the buffalo robe up more tightly around his shoulders. Though it was almost the middle of April, the nights and early mornings still held a bitter chill to them. Not to mention the threat of snow this high in the mountains could linger until at least the beginning of June.

In the quiet of the darkened tepee, the only sound the slow, even breathing of its still-sleeping occupants, his thoughts soon turned to the day ahead. If truth be told, he wasn’t particularly looking forward to it.

Though he had told Shiloh he didn’t know why Jack had asked to see her again—and he technically didn’t know as he hadn’t outright asked—Jesse suspected his chief had given her last visit some thought and was reconsidering her offer to teach the children. Jack, after his time scouting for the US Army, could not only read but also understand better than most of the People how important it was to know the white man and his ways. Not to assimilate into the white culture, of course, but rather to comprehend the enemy better, and use that insight against him.

Nonetheless, Jesse didn’t want Shiloh getting involved. Jack would use her until he didn’t need her anymore, and then toss her aside. And that would be the best that could happen. Whether she realized it or not, she was fast becoming a pawn in the ever-escalating war between the US government and the Utes. For that matter, he supposed Meeker was caught in the middle as well, which, if Meeker actually realized his predicament, could explain some of the man’s periodic frustrated and angry outbursts.

Still, as hard as he tried to discourage Shiloh, something always seemed to be happening to bolster her optimism that she would indeed succeed. First, Susan and Johnson joining forces with her, and now Jack’s summons. Though she might have thought she’d successfully hidden her delight when he’d informed her of Jack’s invitation, Jesse hadn’t been fooled. She thought she was beginning to make some inroads with the People. And if things continued to play out as they had so far, he didn’t hold much hope of convincing Shiloh otherwise.

Perhaps it was best just to give up and let things occur as they may. He couldn’t protect her if she wouldn’t let him. Better to just do as he’d planned. Fulfill his obligations to her, then stay far away from her from there on out.

With a sigh, Jesse flung aside the robe and sat up. The frigid air slammed into his bare skin, sending a spray of gooseflesh forming over his body. He quickly dressed, pulled on his moccasins, grabbed up his buckskin coat, and crawled across the hard-packed tepee floor and out the skin-covered door.

He needed to wash, eat breakfast, and make some plans. Plans that, he was certain, Shiloh would spend the rest of the day attempting to thwart.

Jesse’s gloomy mood hadn’t lifted by the time he mounted his pony later that morning and set out for the Agency headquarters. The sight of Shiloh standing outside the Agency office beside her horse, her eyes bright with anticipation, her welcoming smile wide and joyous, did little to sweeten his sour mood.

The ever-faithful Josie stood beside her, likely there to bid her a safe and fruitful journey. She was a nice enough young woman, even if she was slowly breaking his best friend’s heart. Jesse, however, had to admit he was becoming mightily weary of having to listen to Persune’s moanings and groanings every time he visited these days. Based on his friend’s misery, unrequited love was not something Jesse ever cared to experience.

In the distance, a mule team pulled a loaded freight wagon over the last rise. Likely more supplies for the Agency, Jesse thought. If additional annuity goods were in that load, he knew word would travel fast among the camps, and in the next few hours, Utes would be swarming the area, eagerly watching everything that was unloaded.

Luckily, he and Shiloh would be long gone before all the chaos ensued. He drew up his horse a few feet from where she was standing and looked down at her.

“Ready to head out to Jack’s camp?”

“Yes.” She shot a glance toward the freight wagon slowly lumbering toward the Agency. “Would you mind waiting for a few minutes more? Until the freight wagon arrives? I just want to see if there are any letters from home.”

Another fifteen or twenty minutes weren’t going to immeasurably impact their trip. Besides, Jesse knew how important letters from her family must be to Shiloh. She had been such a tenderhearted person as a girl. From all he could tell, she still was.

“Suit yourself. It’s up to you how soon you want to get to Jack’s camp.”

“It won’t be long, I promise. In fact, I’ll just ride out to meet the freight driver right now.” She untied her horse, gathered up the reins, and quickly mounted. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

With that, Shiloh urged her horse into a fast walk that swiftly accelerated into a lope. As Jesse watched, she soon reached the wagon, and the driver halted. There was a brief interchange. Then the man reached behind him and pulled out a packet of letters, which he handed to Shiloh.

He pointed to the one on top and appeared to explain something. Shiloh immediately pulled that letter free and ripped it open. For a long moment she avidly read the letter, then ever so slowly looked in Jesse’s direction.

Even from the distance separating them, he could tell something was wrong. His instincts were confirmed when Shiloh turned back to the freight driver, appeared to thank him, then urged her horse around and galloped back to them.

“Oh no,” Josie whispered, moving closer. “I fear it must be bad news.”

Jesse didn’t reply, fixing his gaze on Shiloh as she rode ever nearer. Now, he could make out her pale, panic-stricken face and overbright eyes. His gut clenched. Whatever it was, it likely involved one of her family.

“What is it, Shiloh?” Josie immediately demanded when her friend reined in her horse before them. “Tell me, before I die of worry.”

For a fleeting instant, Shiloh’s tear-filled eyes met Jesse’s. Then she looked down at her friend.

“It’s a telegram. A telegram from home. My sister is gravely ill and m-may not live.” She stopped and swallowed hard. “They said for me to get home just as soon as I can.”