Taboo Love in the West Part 1: A Heart Off-Limits (Wild West Adventures in Love Book 3) (6 page)

They walked in silence, Amitola leading his horse on a long rein behind them. For the first mile it was uncomfortable and Amitola wished he knew what to say, wished he had anything he could say that would be safe. The situation was just too intimate, and he was struggling to control himself. All he wanted was to be able to take her in his arms in the dark night, under the gentle light of the silvery moon, and kiss her with all the passion he held so tightly coiled within. The isolation and solitude of the walk was heightening his awareness of her with every step. “You’re very quiet tonight,” she said. “Have I done something to upset you? Has something happened on the reservation? You just don’t seem yourself today.”

“I’m sorry, Miss Gillespie, I am a little pre-occupied. It isn’t your fault. Sorry if I have made you feel bad.” He couldn’t say any more, feeling he had no right to burden her with his feelings.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Eliza? I thought we were friends?” she said sadly, clearly confused by his behaviour towards her that evening.

“Many more than you have already done,” he replied.” You are a respected teacher. You deserve to be honoured for that.”

“Don’t be so ridiculous. There is no need for this formality. Who out here but us will ever know?” She tried to coax a smile form him, but the reminder that there truly was nobody around to know anything that they did on this late night walk home was part of what was making it so imperative, he continued to keep some kind of distance between them.

“You are right, but your father, I am sure, would prefer it if I continue to address you this way. It is what is proper, yes?” Reluctantly she agreed and let the subject drop. As they reached the path to the manse, she took him by surprise. She reached up and kissed him gently on the cheek.

“Thank you for walking me home,” she said simply. She caught his hand as he tried to pull away. “I hope that we will be friends again tomorrow?” Those simple, innocent touches inflamed him, and unable to stop himself he pulled her roughly towards him, and kissed her hard on the mouth. Surprised, she gasped, and unwittingly allowed him all the access he needed to plunder her mouth with his tongue. He crushed her to him and was stunned as he realised that Eliza was no longer rigid from the shock of his attack, and was in fact kissing him back with just as much ardour. A light flickered in the window, and the sound of a brawl bundling out of the saloon brought them both rapidly to their senses. Amitola put Eliza down, and watched as she ran to the house, tears flooding down her cheeks. He leapt onto his horses back and rode out of town and across the plains as fast as he could go.

Chapter Six

Eliza had settled into her new life and still pinched herself every morning to ensure that it was all real. She had grown to love the wild and rugged landscape around her, enjoyed the mix of races, languages and types of people that came in and out of the town at all times and was building great friendships with the sorts of people that would have been kept completely from her sight in Boston. She saw her father blooming in this new world too. His congregation was growing and was as diverse as the town itself. He was much loved and respected here as a man of God and as a good man. His opinion was often sought by the new town council and he was often called upon to mediate between disputes over claims and other issues. He was seen as a wise and fair judge in any matter that required arbitration, even though some townsfolk were concerned about their growing relationship with the Sioux, many saw it as a good thing that they were creating a bridge between the two peoples; they were neighbours, after all. But she couldn’t forget the feelings Amitola’s kiss had created within her. No matter how busy she kept herself, and how much she tried to dismiss it as a fantasy and everything she could ever have imagined a passionate kiss to be, it was branded on her heart. She had never before understood how women could lose their virtue, had thought it such an unpleasant thing from all she had heard that it had made no sense that a woman would be prepared to lose so much in the name of love and carnal pleasure. But now she knew why. Every part of her ached with desire for him. Every moment they spent together at the school a sweet torment. The kiss was never mentioned, as if it had never happened. Amitola continued to be politely formal, and they carried on their duties and just accepted their plight.

Twice a week she would take the buggy out to her class on the reservation, collecting Emmeline along the way. They would chatter and laugh, and they created a school that catered for everyone’s needs together. They both enjoyed the chance the school gave them to learn the beautiful language and customs of this ancient nation. Eliza in particular loved the stories that Amitola would tell the children, and would become almost as caught up in the magic of them as they were. She taught them English, how to read and write and all about manners and politeness. She did not teach them about the Bible, but did read them stories from the small selection of books her father had brought with them, having consulted the oracle of the Sunday School Library Catalogue of the Boston Church of the Redeemer. He had been determined that the children here would have plenty of books, and Eliza herself had brought treasured copies of
The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
,
Alice in Wonderland:
Through the Looking Glass,
Jules Verne’s Twenty Thousand Leagues under the Sea
and
The Little House Books
of Laura Ingalls Wilder, which she loved with a passion, describing as they did lives such as hers as people learned to adjust to difficult new circumstances.

She taught the children of the town three mornings a week, and their parents in the afternoons and evenings. To ensure she had a never ending supply of wonderful books that were suitable for both her older and younger students, she joined a postal book club that sent her a new book every month, though being in Oacoma this often meant that three or four all arrived at once after a few months with no new reading materials. Her days were busy but full of satisfaction and achievement as she saw her students’ progress and blossom from the benefits of their education. In the townspeople the ability to read and write opened up new opportunities for trade and co-operation – having a common language, rather than trying to get by in the vast ranges of French, German, English, and even Dutch dialects made things much more peaceful in the town too; less misunderstandings made for fewer brawls. On the reservation she saw the younger people come to realise that not all white men were bad, and though the older members of the tribe learnt well she felt they were there grudgingly and still held on to their justifiable prejudices and fears that this was another way for the White Man to take even more from them. But the children offered the hope of a more peaceful future some day.

But, though she hated to admit it, the thing she most looked forward to in her week was the time she spent with Amitola. He was so gentle and good, so patient with the children, and so steeped in the wisdom and lore of his people, but yet could still see the benefits of working together with the white men. She counted the hours until she could be with him again, and wished that the minutes would drag on forever when she was in his presence. She would often find herself thinking about him too much as she drove the buggy, and would veer off the roads in a daydream. Today she had managed to steer a clear course and pulled up outside of her favourite school room to see him standing awaiting their arrival. No matter how many times she had tried to catch him out by being early, he was always here waiting for them. She wished so much that it was because he cared for her, but she knew that it was to ensure the school’s success. She wasn’t stupid enough to think that a single kiss taken in a moment of madness meant anything more than that.

“Miss Gillespie, Emmeline?” His warm and silken voice broke her reverie as he took the reins from her hands and secured them to the hitching post. She shuddered lightly at the accidental brush of his hand on hers. It was so warm, and she suddenly felt cold all over. She shivered. “Are you well? You look a little pale today.” He was so observant and so infuriatingly courteous always as he helped both of them down from the buggy.

“I am just a little tired. There was a travelling theatre troop that performed a fabulous play for us in the Kicking Horse’s brand new theatre last night. It finished late but it was worth it,” she said, smiling at him a little shyly. Emmeline nodded her agreement. Eliza could kick herself. It didn’t seem to matter how much time she spent in his presence, she was always a little nervous, with butterflies in her stomach that threatened to take away her words and her breath all at once. She knew that Emmeline was aware of it, and was being kind enough not to say anything to her or anyone else, but she hated that is was taking over her every waking, and dreaming thought as well.

“I’ll just go and get set up” Emmeline said tactfully, her full skirt whisking up the dust as she whirled a bemused looking child inside with her.

“A play?” he queried.

“Yes, a play. They did a performance of Macbeth; it was wonderful. You remember we read the plays of Shakespeare?”

“Yes, I didn’t realise that there was a way to enjoy them other than reading them. It was wonderful fun. You made us all take a part.”

“Yes, the troop didn’t just read them, though. They acted them out, brought the words to life. Oh Amitola – I wonder if I could convince them to come out here to perform for the children? It would be so wonderful for them to see it done properly.”

“It sounds wonderful, a real celebration. We often have gatherings where we dance or act out the old legends. It would be wonderful to see how your people do it,” he said with a cheeky grin, the tension between them finally breaking down a little as they got caught up in the passion Eliza felt for something else. They had often laughed about the differences between their traditions and habits, and marvelled at how many there were that they held in common, but that was before. It was wonderful to be doing it once more.

“I will ask them as soon as I return from school today,” she vowed. “They wanted to stay in town for a few days, so if I can maybe arrange it for tomorrow evening? Would you be able to arrange things here if I send word of what they will need?”

“Tell me what I need to arrange and it is done,” he said humbly.

The note saying that the troop had agreed to perform out on the reservation came via Judd the next morning. Amitola took the news to the children who became terribly excited – he hadn’t wanted to get their hopes up until he was certain that such a thing would actually occur. Many townspeople had fears about coming out there and justifiably so – they had not always received the most resounding of welcomes. He prepared according to the instructions Eliza had given him in her letter and awaited the arrival of the wagon she said they would use as a stage. They arrived just before sundown and began to set themselves up in the clearing he had cleared of debris and stones so the children would have somewhere comfortable to sit. They lit large gas lamps at the edge of the wagon, as he lit a large fire to keep people warm and to give some light. He watched the players disappear into the school to get themselves ready just as Judd and Emmeline joined him with big smiles and baby Gwen snugly wrapped in her papoose against her mother’s chest. He chucked the baby on the cheek, and kissed her mother gently on the forehead. “So glad you could all come,” he said warmly. Judd chuckled.

“We wouldn’t miss this for anything. Not much happens out here after all these days. Maybe we need to start the wars again just so we have something to talk about again!” he joked irreverently. Amitola knew his friend was joking, but was all too aware of the continuing battles happening in other parts of the west and the bands in his own tribe that wished to commence hostilities again. It never ceased to amaze him that so many people could think that peace and living in tandem was the lesser of the two options.

The children began to arrive, and he was surprised to see how many of their parents had chosen to join them. It was clearly going to be a wonderful night, and he was proud to have been involved in making something so special happen for them. He ushered Judd and Emmeline towards a large log that he had set up nice and close to the fire so that baby Gwen would stay snug in the cold night air. He turned in time to see Reverend Gillespie and Eliza arrive in their little buggy. They were unexpectedly followed by a number of the townspeople. This was a surprise and he hoped that there would be no trouble. Eliza looked radiant but apologetic for the following traps, buggies and carts full of excited looking people bundled up in warm blankets and coats against the cool night air.

“I am so sorry, but when they realised there was to be a second performance everyone wanted to come – I so hope it won’t be a problem,” she said, contrite as she jumped down from the buggy and ran towards him. The Sioux looked a little restless as they took in the unexpected arrivals, but Amitola was pleased to see Chief Iron Nation had joined them and was diplomatically making a big thing of welcoming their guests. He and Eliza both went to do the same and encouraged others around them to do the same. Judd and Reverend Gillespie took the initiative to introduce the townspeople to the Sioux families that they knew and soon everyone was sitting together on the hard ground awaiting the beginnings of the show. It wasn’t exactly amicable, but it was far from antagonistic, and that was probably the best that they could hope for.

“Thank you,” Eliza whispered as she sat down beside him.

“I hope it may help us all to see that we have more in common than we think,” he said emotionally. He could feel the warmth of her tiny body next to him and could smell her scent: flowers and citrus. She always smelled so good, but being so close to him now was intoxicating. He longed to crush her in his arms and hold her against him forever, but with all the willpower he possessed he stopped himself from being so impolitic. “Maybe we should show you some of our legends when this is done, make a real night of it?” he said with a grin, not sure if she would approve of the idea.

“What a marvellous idea. I would love to see your stories acted out and to see you dance,” she said, and then immediately bit her lip and went silent. She sat wringing her hands anxiously and wouldn’t meet his eyes. Amitola wondered what had caused her to flush so brightly. He could see nothing wrong in wanting to see the legends and the Sioux dance. The White Man had such odd rules about what was right and proper, though, so he could only presume that either he or she had accidentally broken one of those unwritten and often utterly ridiculous rules. He knew he certainly wanted to break every one of them, but he would never again bring himself to sully her in such a way. He had already done enough to warrant a hanging in the minds of many of the men here.

The players had chosen
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
for this evening’s performance, and even though there were barriers with the language at times, Amitola could see that these issues were there for the townspeople too. Shakespeare had written in different times, and his English was different to that spoken now. Even so, the children loved the dreamlike madness of the night in an enchanted forest, and everyone laughed together at the capering of Bottom and his friends. He enjoyed their rapt expressions and the sound of their laughter as it rang out into the clear-skied night. As the play ended and the adults got together to talk about what they had seen, Amitola was overjoyed to see Sioux and town children playing happily together, and nobody was even trying to separate them. It brought a truly warm glow to his heart.

He glanced over at Judd and Emmeline, and not for the first time felt a pang of envy for their love and companionship. They were so happy together, and as she fed her child Judd gazed down upon his beloved wife and daughter with absolute pride and a supreme confidence in their love. To think how close it had come for them for that not to be the case, meeting as strangers had been tough and they hadn’t exactly gotten off on the right foot. Then when Emmeline had left him to go back to Boston, Judd had realised just how much her presence had come to mean to him and had chased after her. Thank God he had, as he had discovered that she was being forced to keep house for a bunch of bandits once they had discovered there would be no ransom for her, so had decided that she may as well at least make herself useful. He had stormed in, with Amitola’s assistance of course, and rescued his damsel in distress, and they had proven since that love really did change even the toughest of men for the better.

Chief Iron Nation allowed the chatter to continue for a while, and then stood up and walked onto the makeshift stage, and invited the players to join the throng as a fire was stoked and he began to tell the tales of the tribe. The Sioux took their places around the fire. The drums came out and they began to chant, sing, dance and show their passion. Amitola reluctantly dragged himself from Eliza’s side to take his turn in the tale of the first Amitola: a young chief who legend told painted the first picture in colour upon the clouds. He could see the delight on the faces around him, and out of the corner of his eye he could see Eliza’s joy at being a part of this wonderful night where traditions were shared, enjoyed and respected.