A Love Forbidden (13 page)

At the mention of Onawa, pain stabbed at him. He had loved her deeply, and she, him. He would never denigrate what they had by calling his wife a fool.

“Onawa saw me for what I was and accepted it,” Jesse muttered. “But then, she was an Indian.”

“And that’s the difference, is it? No white possesses the ability to see you as you really are? And so, if they think they do, that makes them fools?” Her fists clenched, and she drew in a shaky breath. “Or is it just me? Do you just think I’m a fool for caring about you?”

Though it gladdened a part of him to hear her speak such words, it also frightened him. “I don’t think you’re a fool, Shiloh,” he softly replied. “But I don’t understand what you want from me or where you expect this to lead.”

Her eyes grew big. She swallowed hard. A grim satisfaction filled him.
So
, Jesse thought,
I’ve finally made her think about this, take it seriously.

“I-I don’t know where I expect this to lead,” she whispered, never taking her gaze off him. “All I know is that I want to be your friend again, to have what we once had.”

He gave a slight shake of his head. “And is that realistic, considering you’re not a little girl anymore? To have what we once had?”

Shiloh expelled a breath and looked away. “Probably not. But we can still try and be friends, can’t we? And take whatever else comes as it comes?”

She wasn’t going to let things be. Jesse should’ve guessed it would come to this. And this was but the first day of their journey. What an idiot he’d been ever to agree to this trip!

Still, he had no choice but to see it through, for Shiloh’s sake if not for his. And he’d do anything for her, he realized. Anything but let himself fall in love with her.

“Look, let’s make a deal,” Jesse said. “We can try the friendship thing. But you must also work on forgiving your sister. I don’t want to feel responsible for getting in the middle of that. Especially now, when we don’t even know if she’ll survive whatever befell her.”

“Have you forgiven her?”

“That’s not the issue, and you know it. Your forgiveness doesn’t hinge on mine. I’m not the Christian here, after all.”

She managed a sad little smile. “You were once.”

He steeled himself to the swift wave of yearning her words stirred. “Well, like a lot of other things, that’s long gone.” Jesse leaned over, grabbed a few more pieces of wood, and threw them on the fire. Then he climbed to his feet.

“We’ve a long day of riding ahead of us, if we hope to cross the Colorado River before nightfall. Let’s get some shut-eye.”

Something flickered in her gaze—another question or attempt to renew their discussion perhaps—then was gone. She sat up, turned around, and began to unfasten the bedroll from her saddle.

“Good idea,” Shiloh said. “Not that it’s likely I’ll get to sleep anytime soon. You’ve given me too much to think about for that.”

Jesse’s smile was mirthless as he walked around to his own bedroll. “So have you,” he muttered under his breath. “And the least of it will be the fact you’ll be sleeping just across the fire from me.”

Shiloh woke shortly after dawn, feeling refreshed and eager for the new day. She glanced across the now-smoldering ashes of last night’s fire, expecting to see Jesse snuggled in his own bedroll. He wasn’t there, and his bedroll was already fastened to the back of the saddle lying nearby.

She sat up and looked around. He was nowhere in sight. Both horses, however, were still tethered to a line running between two trees about ten feet away.

Likely he’d gone to wash up or hunt for small game, she thought. Climbing to her feet, Shiloh first stirred the ashes and found some still-red coals beneath them. She carefully lay some tinder atop the coals and, as the small bits of grass and brush began to smoke, leaned over and gently blew to encourage them to catch fire. When flames finally began to lick at the tinder, she added small twigs and then a few bigger pieces of wood, taking great pains not to smother the revived fire.

She filled the small tin pot she’d brought along with water from her canteen, slid a long stick through its handle, then hung it over the fire using the forked sticks still standing from last night. A nice cup of hot tea would taste wonderful and help take the edge off this chill morning, she told herself. Especially after she’d finished washing up a bit in an equally chill creek.

Though the night had been just above freezing, if the lack of frost on the dried grasses was any indication, it had just barely been so. Luckily, the day already promised to be a fine, sunny one and would warm nicely. Just not before she’d washed and they’d had breakfast and ridden down the valley for a few hours.

There was still no sign of Jesse, so Shiloh dug through her saddlebag again, extracting a wrapped bar of soap and a small towel. There’d be no privacy for a true bath while on the trip. There would also be no body of water worth washing in that would be warm enough this time of year, but she could at least cleanse as much as modesty allowed. And, in another day or two, maybe she’d attempt shampooing her hair.

She met Jesse heading up from the creek. His hair was wet and slicked back from his face. His shirt slung over one shoulder, he wore only his buckskins, loincloth, and moccasins. Droplets of water clung to his muscular chest and arms.

Warmth flooded Shiloh’s face, as much from finding him half dressed as from the frisson of pleasure that coursed through her at the sight of him. He was a tall, well-made man and, to her way of thinking, far too attractive with his dark, exotic good looks. Well, she quickly amended, far too attractive for her anyway.

“Oh,” she managed to choke out as he drew up before her a few feet away. “I was wondering where you’d gone off to.”

“The same place it looks like you’re now headed to.” His mouth lifted in a smile. “You look like you could use a bit of cooling off.”

Shiloh stared at him, taken aback at his comment. “What . . . what exactly do you mean by that?”

He shrugged. “Nothing much. You just look a bit flushed, is all. Kind of sweet, actually, along with that tousled mane of red hair.”

If she’d blushed before, Shiloh’s face felt as if it were on fire now. Her mouth went dry, her palms damp.

Kind of sweet . . .

So, he thought she looked sweet, like some little kid, while she was standing here trying not to ogle him. Frustration filled her. What would it take for Jesse finally to see her as the woman she now was, rather than the girl she used to be? And, even more to the point, would she dare try it, if she even knew?

“Well, just give me a little time to clean up and brush my hair, and I’m sure I’ll look a lot better.” With that, Shiloh stepped around him and hurried down the path to the creek. Behind her, she heard Jesse’s deep chuckle.

Her cheeks still burning, she threw down her soap and towel onto some rocks on the bank of the swiftly flowing water. Kneeling, Shiloh splashed several handfuls of the frigid water onto her face before her skin began to feel normal again. Then she unwrapped her bar of soap, washed her hands, then scrubbed her face and neck. A few more handfuls of water to rinse off, towel herself dry, and she felt a lot better.

Pulling her brush from her jacket pocket, she then tried to tame her unruly hair. She ended up plaiting it into a loose braid down her back and then tying it off with a blue ribbon. With no mirror to check her appearance, and with the creek flowing too fast to offer any kind of reflection, she had to suffice with patting her hair to make sure the rest of it wasn’t sticking out at any strange angles around her face.

Finally, after gathering all her supplies, Shiloh headed back to camp. She supposed it didn’t really matter how she looked anyway. All Jesse seemed capable of seeing her as was some snotty-nosed kid.

He glanced up from his spot by the fire, where he was slicing the leftover trout from last night, and smiled as she made her way over to join him. “You clean up pretty good. Considering the primitive conditions and all.”

“When you don’t have to bother primping for hours in the hopes of captivating any admirers, it makes one’s morning toilet quick and simple,” she said, throwing down her soap and hairbrush before using her towel to remove the pot of now-boiling water from the fire.

She lowered herself carefully to sit beside her saddlebag, set down the pot, and began digging through one pocket of the leather pouches. Pulling out a tin cup and a small cloth bag, she looked to Jesse, who was watching her, a curious expression on his face. Though tempted to ask him what he was thinking, she decided to forgo that impulse. All it would likely do was get things all stirred up again.

“Want a cup of tea?” she asked instead, holding up the cloth bag. “I can’t start my day without my Earl Grey.”

“No, thank you,” he said with a shake of his head. “I’ve never been much of a tea drinker.”

“It’s a luxury, I know.” As she spoke, Shiloh shook some of the fragrant, dried tea leaves into her cup. “But I’d sacrifice a lot of other things just to have my tea.” She picked up the pot with her towel and carefully poured in the hot water.

For a time, Shiloh just clasped the cup between her towel-protected hands, inhaling the fragrant scents of black tea and citrusy bergamot wafting with the steam up to her nose. She closed her eyes and for a moment imagined she was already home, back at Castle Mountain Ranch, sitting in the cozy kitchen in the midst of her family. If only her family would be intact and Jordan still alive when she arrived back home.

“Will some fish and the rest of the bannocks suffice for breakfast?” Jesse asked of a sudden, piercing her poignant musings. “I figured we might as well finish them and lighten the load a bit. Besides, the bread and cheese will make a quicker lunch.”

Shiloh’s eyes snapped open. “Sure. That sounds fine.” She cautiously took a sip of her steaming cup. The tea had steeped well and tasted delicious. She smiled in contentment. “Perfect.”

He handed over a large chunk of fish on an open piece of bannock. “The tea or the breakfast?”

“Both, of course,” she replied, accepting the food.

They ate in companionable silence then finished packing their gear, making certain the campfire was thoroughly extinguished before saddling up. In less than a half hour, they were back on the trail, headed south along the Hogback range.

As the sun rose higher and higher as the morning drew on, the steep slopes of the mountains became dappled with shadows from the towering timber that grew up its sides. Waterfalls of melting snow poured down from high cliffs. The air smelled of pine needles and damp earth. And, just like yesterday, Shiloh relaxed and enjoyed the brief respite of walking the horses before once more resuming the pulse-pounding pace.

Lunch was a hurried affair. They ate and watered the horses, restocked their canteens, then set out again. And finally, in late afternoon, they began a slow descent toward where the Colorado River wound through a wide channel. The bracing scent of sagebrush and pinyon began to fill their nostrils, and the sound of rushing water reached their ears.

A river of dark, churning water came into view. When they neared its banks, Jesse reined in his horse. He studied the river for a time, a frown on his face. At long last, he turned to her.

“I was afraid of this. With the warm days lately, the snowmelt has started earlier than usual. The river’s up a lot higher for this time of year. And it’s flowing a lot faster.”

“So we’ll have a little more trouble fording it.” Shiloh shrugged. “I’m not worried. I’ve forded worse than this.”

“Maybe you have,” Jesse said. “But the worst thing you can do is get too cocky. Things out there in the water can change at a moment’s notice.”

“Well, sitting here and wasting time worrying over what may or may not happen isn’t going to get us across this river. Let’s just figure out how we’re going to do this, and then get on with it.”

Jesse eyed her, then gave a chuckle. “Okay, Miss Impatient. Here’s how I propose we do this . . .”

A few minutes later, Jesse then Shiloh urged their horses into the water. Though she knew it was going to be a frigid crossing, she still couldn’t restrain a soft gasp as the icy waters swiftly rose to her hips. Gritting her teeth, she continued to urge her horse onward. After a time, she couldn’t feel the cold quite so much. Numbness, Shiloh knew, had set in.

The current was strong, but the horses seemed to handle it. Her teeth began to chatter, and she couldn’t control the shivers that racked her body. At the halfway point, she released a breath of relief.
Almost there
, Shiloh told herself, glancing down at her knuckle-white hold on the reins.
Just . . . a few minutes . . . more.

“Shiloh, watch out!”

She jerked her gaze to where Jesse stood near the opposite shore, pointing upstream. As her glance followed the direction of his hand, panic swamped her. Coming directly at her was an uprooted tree.

“Move!” he roared. “Now!”

For an instant too long, she stared at the behemoth barreling toward her. Then she snapped into action, kicking her horse full force in its side.