A Love Forbidden (29 page)

With a resolute, almost angry, shake of her head, Shiloh flung aside the pointless fantasy she was spinning. Nothing was served pining over what might have been. Though thoughts of Jesse still hurt, Shiloh knew she had made the right decision in choosing God over him.

She headed back to the barn after a time, anticipating that the supper bell would soon be rung, summoning her to the feast. After untacking her horse, she led her into a stall. Quickly putting the saddle and bridle away, Shiloh returned with a grooming box and began brushing her mare. Next, she turned to picking out the animal’s hooves, her thoughts soon flitting off in aimless, scattered directions.

“We really need to stop meeting in the barn, you know?” a deep, familiar voice intruded just then on her reverie.

Shiloh froze, then lowered her mare’s front foot to the ground and straightened. Her heart pounding in her chest, she turned.

Jesse stood there, casually leaning on the stall door. As always, he was dressed in full buckskins and his fur-lined buckskin coat, his black, shoulder-length hair gleaming in the light of the single lamp Shiloh had lit and hung on a hook just outside the stall. His gaze, as he avidly scanned her, was filled with love and yearning and no small amount of amusement.

“W-what are you doing here?” she asked, immediately struck by how inane and inhospitable her words sounded.

Jesse, however, didn’t seem to take offense. He shrugged.

“I missed you and thought maybe there was still some way to talk you into becoming my wife. We’d have to get married in a church, though, as I’d like it to be done up right in God’s eyes as much as in man’s.”

Gradually, Shiloh became aware that she was standing there staring at him with her mouth agape. She snapped her lips shut, swallowed to lubricate her dry throat, and then gave a shaky laugh.

“Well, I don’t know,” she began. “This is all so sudden, so unexpected. And I don’t understand. What’s changed that now you’re talking about God and a church wedding?”

“Some of us are just slow learners, I guess.” Jesse motioned to her. “Would you mind coming out of this stall so we can talk? I’m not keen on shouting out all my failings and stupidity for the whole barn to hear.”

“Afraid the horses and other livestock will think less of you?” Shiloh gave a bemused snort. “Leave it to a Ute to worry more about the ponies than people.”

Nonetheless, she did toss the hoof pick back into the grooming box, then picked it up and walked from the stall as Jesse unlatched and swung open the door. After depositing the grooming box on a nearby bench, she turned and waited. Jesse closed and latched the stall door then rejoined her.

“Kwana gave me the silver eagle you’d left with her,” he said, coming to stand so close that Shiloh could smell his heady scent of buckskins and horse. “She didn’t have very kind words for me or my decision-making ability, though. Told me I needed to hightail it north and get my poo-gat to talk some sense into me.”

Her brow crinkled in puzzlement. “Poo-gat?”

He grinned. “The one who knows the way. One’s spiritual mentor.”

“I didn’t know you had one of those. You never mentioned—”

Jesse placed a finger to her lips. “It was Brother Thomas. So I went to find him.”

“And did you, after all these years? Find him, I mean?”

“No, I didn’t. He’d moved around these parts quite a bit over the years, and the best I could discover was that he died two years ago at a mission near Cheyenne. For a while after that, I was pretty devastated. But, one night while sitting at my campfire on my way back to Colorado, I was struck by the realization that I hadn’t ever really needed to find him. I had all his words in my head and in the Bible he’d given me on my baptismal day.”

“You’ve had a Bible with you all along?” Shiloh couldn’t believe her ears. “But where? I never saw it in your tepee.”

“That’s because I’d wrapped it up and packed it away in my saddlebags a long time ago.” He smiled. “At any rate, I sat there that night and began to think over all that he’d told me. Of why his words had so inflamed my heart with love of God that I’d finally begged to be baptized, to become a Christian.”

Jesse laughed. “Not that I worked it all out that night, but it started me back on the right path. And I had plenty of time to think about a lot of things as I rode home. Long days and nights of nothing to keep me company but my thoughts. Yet, though the People had finally returned to the White River reservation by then, something kept drawing me southward. Until I finally realized I was on my way back to you.”

He took her by the arms. At his touch, Shiloh shivered. Ah, but it was so good to see him again, to be close to him, to gaze up into his beautiful dark eyes! If he was a dream or some vision or figment of her imagination, she hoped it would never end.

“I love you, Shiloh,” Jesse said softly, ardently. “I’ve never stopped loving you, even though I lost sight of what mattered most to me. I was just so confused, so afraid, and so unforgiving.”

“Unforgiving?”

A wry smile lifted his lips. “Of myself, most of all. Because I couldn’t find it in my heart to forgive myself, I became consumed with the inability to do that for others too. Others, meaning mainly the white man. I hated them first, before they could hate me, in an attempt to protect myself. If I received no mercy, I was determined never to give it either.”

“And so it consumed you, until you wouldn’t even believe you were worthy of love when you found it,” she finished for him. “Not only from me but from God.”

He nodded. “Guess that pretty much sums it up. Yet it was never you, never God. It was always me. Imperfect me who could never forgive his father, or the God-Father, or anyone who seemed a threat to me. And so, because I couldn’t forgive or offer mercy, I never expected or felt I deserved any in return. Even from God, most of all.”

“So you learned all this from Brother Thomas?”

Jesse smiled sadly. “I hated my father long before I killed him. And only Brother Thomas could help me make some sense of that, by telling me of the sacrifice, the love Christ offered when He died on that cross. The grace and mercy He won for us in the doing.”

She reached up and stroked his cheek. “You’re real, really here. You’re not some dream.”

“Yes, I’m really here.” He grinned. “But I can well understand why you’d imagine this a dream. Some strange words have sure been coming out of my mouth in the past few minutes, haven’t they?”

“Strange,” Shiloh murmured as she stood on tiptoe to brush her lips across his, “but oh, so wonderful. So longed for.”

As she settled back on her heels, Jesse grabbed her up and returned her kiss, though this time it wasn’t just a gentle meeting of mouths. His kiss was hungry, searing, and covenant-sealing. And Shiloh kissed him back with an equal ardor and commitment.

“So, does that mean you’ll be my wife?” Jesse asked huskily when they finally pulled away from each other.

“Yes.” Her reply was breathless with emotion. “Yes, Jesse Blackwater, I’ll be your wife.”

From outside the barn, the dinner bell began to ring loudly. Shiloh gasped and stepped back.

“It’s time for supper,” she cried. “Thanksgiving supper.”

She grabbed his arm and started dragging him to the barn door. “Come on. Everyone will be so excited to see you!”

Jesse dug in his heels. “Whoa! Hold on. I don’t think this is the best time to spring me on your family. They’re looking forward to a nice, happy, peaceful holiday meal. I’d hate to ruin it for them. I can come back tomorrow after you’ve told them about me.”

“No, you won’t.” Shiloh tightened her grip on his arm and began pulling him forward again. “As my intended, you’re now part of the family. The sooner they get used to it, the better. Besides, Emma’s prepared the most scrumptious meal, and I want to enjoy it with my future husband.”

“Is this just another one of those compromises you women seem to love talking so much about?”

She laughed, and the sound reverberated all the way down to her toes. “Oh, most definitely. Most definitely indeed!”

Everyone was already gathered around the big dining room table when Shiloh, followed by Jesse, walked in and closed the front door. As she took his buckskin coat from him and hung it on some hooks on the wall inside the front door, then removed her own coat, hat, and mittens, Jesse watched as eyes around the table grew wide and mouths dropped open.

Then, once again, Shiloh was dragging him forward.

“Emma, could you round up another chair and put it next to mine?” Shiloh asked brightly.

As the housekeeper, her eyes twinkling in delight, rose from the table and hurried off, Jesse, like a man going to his own execution, followed Shiloh around to the head of the table. Her brother Nicholas sat there in his wheelchair.

“Nick,” she said, “Jesse’s decided to pay us a visit. He couldn’t have timed it better, could he?”

Her brother nodded. “Nope, he sure couldn’t have.” He held out a hand to Jesse. “Glad to see you again. Going to join us for supper, are you?”

Jesse accepted the other man’s hand and shook it. “Shiloh’s invited me, but if you don’t have the room . . .”

“Nonsense.” Before Nick could reply, Jordan piped up from her seat catty-corner to her oldest brother. “There’s always room at the Wainwright table for family and friends. And you’ve always been a friend, though some of us didn’t always know how to appreciate that.” She grinned. “From the looks of Shiloh’s beaming face, I wager that you’ll also soon be part of the family.”

Once again, all eyes turned to Jesse. He felt a surge of blood heat his face, but he forced himself to reply with a calm assurance he certainly didn’t feel.

“We love each other, and I’d like her brothers’ blessings on our marriage, if they’ll give it,” he said, meeting Cord’s then Nick’s gazes. “One way or another, though, we’re going to be married.”

Nick glanced down the length of the table to where Cord sat. “Well, what do you think, little brother? Shall we give them our blessing?”

Cord shot Jesse a disgruntled look. “Might as well,” he grumbled even as a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. “If Jesse’s even half as stubborn and hotheaded as our little sister, we won’t have a chance to convince them otherwise. Even if we wanted to.”

“Guess that means welcome to the family.” As Emma reentered the room just then with the extra chair, Nick swung around to grin up at Jesse. “Now, sit on down and let’s say grace, so we can dig into some really fine food.”

Jesse’s eyes burned as he assisted Shiloh with her chair, then took his beside her. Maybe it was from the long ride and nights without much sleep—the burning, suddenly tear-filled eyes. Or maybe it was because he’d just found another home with some good people. People who accepted him and might even someday come to love him.

People who offered him mercy and forgiveness. As he must strive always from here on out to offer to others. It could be no other way.

Brother Thomas had taught him that many years ago, and now Shiloh had taken up that charge. It was the only thing of value he could offer back to God in atonement for all his sins and failings. But, as Brother Thomas had once told him, there was no truer test of love than to give back what one received.

Beneath the table, Jesse sought out Shiloh’s hand and squeezed it. She squeezed back then, with a smile, bowed her head as Nick began to say grace.

I hope you’ve enjoyed
A Love Forbidden
. It was a very interesting if challenging story to tell. I did, however, want to clarify a few details for historical accuracy.

Shiloh, Jesse, the Wainwrights, Kwana, Onawa, and Broken Antler are all fictional characters. All the other characters mentioned in regard to the White River Indian Agency were real people, as were all the events leading up to the Meeker Massacre on September 29, 1879. Josie Meeker was actually the only schoolteacher at the Agency, and I of course took literary license with the interactions and dialogue between Shiloh, Jesse, and the other Agency personnel, as well as with them and the Utes. Only three women—Josie, Arvilla, and Flora Ellen in addition to her two children—were actually taken captive by the Utes.

After the Meeker Massacre, things didn’t go well for the White River Utes. Though the Utes who’d fought the soldiers at Milk Creek were never prosecuted, as the fight was deemed a legitimate battle, attempts were made to apprehend, try, and punish the Utes who’d killed innocent people at the Agency. However, though Arvilla, Josie, and Flora Ellen named twelve Utes whom they’d recognized during the massacre, none of the White River Utes would testify that they knew anything about the massacre or who had participated in it.

Even after Ouray got involved, only Chief Douglas was eventually brought in and punished by being imprisoned at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas. He was eventually set free and died insane, sometime later.

The residents of Colorado, however, were still up in arms and demanded that “The Utes must go!” Eventually, Ouray hammered out a treaty with the US government, and on September 1, 1881, the White River Utes began a 350-mile march to the Utah reservation—a “wild and ragged desolation valuable for nothing unless it shall be found to contain mineral deposits.” Brokenhearted, the Utes left the lush, green Shining Mountains of their ancestral homelands in Colorado, forbidden to return.

Ouray never saw his people’s banishment from Colorado. He died on August 24, 1880, of what was believed to be kidney disease.