Heart of the Rockies Collection

by Kathleen Morgan

  The niggling unease that had been with her since shortly after her arrival flared into outright concern. Had she been given an impossible task and all but set up for failure, however unintended it might have been? Or was it, instead, a studied attempt by Nathan Meeker to absolve himself of blame? After all, if a professionally trained teacher couldn’t get the school going, what could a mere Indian agent hope to do? And he could lay the fault squarely on her shoulders.

  Shiloh hated even to think such unkind thoughts about her new employer. Not only was it a poor beginning to a working relationship, but it was uncharitable. And Meeker was said to be a God-fearing man.

  “Don’t lose heart, Shiloh,” her friend said as they paused in the entry to put on their coats. “It takes time to win the trust of the Utes. But once they get to know you and see your skill . . .”

  “They’re good people. They only want the best for their families,” Shiloh replied. “I just pray that your father can give us the time we may need.”

  Josie nodded as she opened the front door and they walked out. “If the timetable of things was up to him, likely he would. The Bureau of Indian Affairs, however, isn’t known for its patience. And, seeing as how they’re far away in Washington and probably don’t know much of anything about how things are out here, I’m not sure how much more time they’ll give us. That’s what’s got my father worried.”

  “He’s in a difficult position,” Shiloh said by way of agreement as they walked up the street to the Agency office. “Stuck right in the middle between two vastly different cultures with vastly different needs.”

  “Unfortunately, only one can come out on top,” the other woman said as they finally paused in front of the Agency office door, “and I don’t think it’s going to be the Indians.”

  “So, here’s what I want you to do.” Nathan Meeker glanced directly at Shiloh. “Beginning tomorrow, visit all the Ute camps on this reservation—which, for starters, includes Chief Douglas’s, Chief Johnson’s, and Captain Jack’s—meet with each set of parents of school-age children, and procure their commitment to enrolling their children in your school.”

  He paused to glance down at a calendar. “I’ll give you until the end of April. That should be more than sufficient time to get the children enrolled and everything set up to start lessons on May first.”

  A little over a month, Shiloh thought. Meeker must be feeling a lot of pressure from his superiors to spare so little time. But then, Josie had been trying since her arrival last summer with no appreciable results. And another summer would soon be upon them.

  “I’ll do my best, sir,” she said. “It might take awhile, though, for the Utes to get to know and trust me, much less accept my reasons for why they should send their children to school.”

  “Unfortunately, Miss Wainwright,” the agent said with a sigh, “I don’t have awhile. And neither do the Utes. I’ve been very patient with them, tried to be a benevolent father and bend over backward to accommodate them. Yet, for the most part, all I get in return is an avid interest in procuring all the government annuity supplies they can get their hands on and then going their merry way. It never seems to enter their childlike brains that to continue to receive, they must also give.”

  “They don’t have a lot of choice, do they, sir, when the government requires they remain within the confines of the reservation? They can’t find much game or gather much food that way, and so need the annuity supplies to survive.”

  Nathan Meeker’s head jerked up from a note he was making on his calendar, and his glance turned to Josie, then Shiloh. “I see my daughter’s already been filling your head with her thoughts on the treatment of the Utes.”

  “No, actually, sir,” Shiloh replied, “I’ve been of that opinion for a while now. It’s pretty much common knowledge amongst those who care to look past the white man’s needs to those of the other inhabitants of this state.”

  He arched a graying brow. “Indeed, Miss Wainwright?”

  She could tell by the angry glint in his eyes that she needed to tread carefully here. Nathan Meeker meant well. It was evident, though, that he was deeply frustrated. Whatever his initial plans had been for the Utes, things hadn’t gone as he’d first envisioned. He seemed a man near the end of his resources and patience. He needed help, or the next steps he took might lead to very unpleasant consequences. Unpleasant not only for the Utes but the Agency employees as well.

  “Indeed, sir.” She paused, trying to choose her next words with all the tact she possessed. “From your letters to me when I was first seeking employment here, I was most impressed with your vision for the Agency and the Ute Indians. That you would lead them from sin to a new life of Christian virtues. That you would teach them to once again become self-sufficient within the confines of their reservation by learning how to farm, raise cows and other livestock, and settle into warm, snug, permanent homes. It might not be the old way of things for them, but it’s the only way. And they get to remain in their beloved mountains.”

  His angry look now mellowing to one of consideration, Meeker rested his chin in his hand. For several long, tortuous seconds, Shiloh watched him, wondering, fearing that she may have just talked herself out of a job. But she had told the truth. There wasn’t more she could say. Either they shared the same vision or she couldn’t remain here anyway.

  Finally, the Indian agent lowered his hand and nodded. “As much as I’d like to give you more time with the schooling issues, Miss Wainwright, I can’t. I will, however, try to ease your way with them by sending one of the more trustworthy braves to escort and introduce you. And, if doling out a few trinkets to the squaws can help smooth things over for you, I’ll gladly provide some extra gifts from the annuity supplies. Are you willing to join me in this endeavor? I can surely use your aid.”

  Shiloh supposed it was the closest thing to an admission that he desperately needed her that she might get. “I’ll do my best for you, sir. I truly believe education will be the key to the Utes’ salvation, both on this earth and in the life beyond.”

  He shoved back his chair, came around the desk, and took her hand in his. “As do I, Miss Wainwright. As do I.” He paused. “Is tomorrow too soon to begin? With the unpredictable mountain weather this time of year, we’re sure to lose more than a few days to the snow and cold. So each day of good travel is best utilized.”

  “If that’s what you want, sir, I—”

  “Father,” Josie interjected just then, “the Bear Dance goes on for another two days. Hardly anyone will be home at their tepees, including the children.”

  Meeker’s mouth twisted in irritation. He released Shiloh’s hand and stepped back. “Ah yes. That infernal spring celebration of theirs. I suppose we’ve no choice but to wait until it’s over.”

  “It’d be the respectful thing to do, Father.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I suppose it would be. Too bad the respect isn’t returned in kind.” He looked down at Shiloh. “Two days from today, then. Make the most of the time in planning what you’ll do and say. And send me a list of the gifts you’ll want from the storehouse.

  “You may go, Miss Wainwright. And, as for my daughter,” he added, casting her a stern look, “I’d like for you to stay. I’ve a few things I need to discuss with you.”

  Shiloh nodded. “Good day to you, sir.” She shot Josie a swift smile as she turned to leave. “See you later.”

  Her friend returned the nod, then walked over to her father. “I’ve a few things to discuss with you too, Father,” Shiloh heard her say as she opened the office door and stepped outside. “Including an excellent candidate to escort Shiloh when she visits the camps . . .”

  The good weather held for the final days of the Bear Dance, but as if it had been planned all along, a fierce winter storm blew in the very next morning, bringing below-freezing temperatures, fresh snow, and frigid winds. Still, Jesse thought three days later as he angrily covered the distance from Captain Jack’s camp to the Agency office on his horse,
he would’ve far preferred braving the wind and snow in order to put Meeker and his restrictive policies behind him. After all these years, he knew the mountains and all the warm places next to water and with sufficient game to get him through the rest of the winter. And now, more than ever, he wished to be as far from the White River Agency as he could get.

  Since that first day of the Bear Dance, he had managed, quite successfully, to avoid Shiloh. Not that he’d actually expected her to come looking for him after the way he’d rejected her overtures of renewed friendship. Still, he kept sensing her presence, and not a few times, he’d whirled around to find no one there.

  What aggrieved him the most was the acute sense of disappointment he’d always felt when that happened. It made no sense, indeed bordered on sheer lunacy, to want to see her again. He needed to put her from his mind and, in the doing, put as much distance as he could between them.

  Fate, at the very least, though, seemed dead set against him. Nothing he could say would convince Captain Jack that he wasn’t the man for this particular job. Agent Meeker had specifically asked for him, his leader had said, and he could see no reason not to comply.

  It had been on the tip of Jesse’s tongue to enumerate all the reasons he could see not to carry out this summons but decided it wouldn’t make a lot of sense to Jack. It was also none of anyone’s business.

  From a distance now, he noted two women awaiting him outside the Agency office. Both were bundled up against the cold; though the day was sunny once again, it was still a bit crisp. A dun-colored horse stood tied to the hitching post nearby, an overstuffed set of saddlebags tied behind the saddle.

  Captain Jack, apparently not without his own reasons to make the trip today as difficult as possible for Shiloh, had directed him to bring her back to their camp where Coal Creek flowed into the White River, a good two hours’ ride east of here. Jesse was well aware of Jack’s feelings about Meeker and his efforts to turn them all into farmers. Was it possibly Jack’s plan to nip Meeker’s new endeavor in the bud by intimidating Shiloh? If so, Jack might well be in for a surprise. That is, if the adult Shiloh Wainwright was anything like the girl had been.

  Be that as it may, Jesse had no intention of making her task any easier either. She’d soon learn that her devious attempt to force him to meet with her, under the guise of needing an escort and interpreter, was doomed to failure. If she thought his earlier refusal to have anything to do with her had been cruelly worded, she was mistaken.

  For her own good, he had to drive his point home today. For his own good too, Jesse reluctantly admitted. And he aimed to do just that, if it was the last thing he ever did.

  3

  “This won’t do,” Shiloh whispered, her pulse beginning to pound crazily. “This won’t do at all.”

  “Of course it will,” Josie muttered from beside her. “In fact, I’d almost call it providential.”

  “Providential?” Shiloh turned from the tall figure riding toward them and glared at her friend. “I hardly think the Lord had anything to do with Jesse Blackwater being chosen as my escort today. But you, on the other hand, did have a hand in this. Didn’t you?”

  Josie pretended to find some bit of lint to brush off her wool coat. “I may have mentioned his name to my father in passing, but in the end, it was Captain Jack’s call.”

  “Tell that to Jesse,” Shiloh said between gritted teeth. “Otherwise, he’s going to assume I orchestrated this.”

  “Rather, I suggest letting him assume what he will.”

  “No.” Shiloh grabbed Josie’s arm. “You tell him. Please!”

  Her friend made a cautioning sound. “Shush. He’s too close now. He’ll overhear.”

  With an exasperated sigh, Shiloh released Josie’s arm, struggling all the while to regain some semblance of composure. Jesse’s expression, however, as he finally drew up before them, wasn’t at all conducive to maintaining a calm demeanor. Though his face was impassive, the taut line of his lips and glacial glint to his eyes told her more than she ever cared to know.

  “Ladies,” he said by way of greeting, even as his furious gaze never wavered from Shiloh’s.

  “It’s good to see you again,” Josie quickly offered. “I’m so glad Captain Jack decided on you for Shiloh’s escort. You are perfect in so many ways.”

  “Am I?” Jesse’s mouth twisted sardonically. “Well, that remains to be seen, doesn’t it?”

  An edge of warning hovered on his words, and Shiloh felt a frisson of unease. What exactly did he mean by that?

  Her chin went up, and she shot him a defiant glare. “I’m sure it’ll all work out for the best. Now,” she said as she walked to the nearby hitching post and untied her horse, “let’s be on our way. I don’t wish to take up more of your valuable time than is absolutely necessary.”

  With that, she moved to the side of her mare, gathered the reins in her left hand, put her foot in the stirrup, and lithely mounted. A moment more and she was firmly settled in the saddle.

  “Well, Mr. Blackwater,” she then said, “shall we be going?”

  “Suits me just fine.” He turned his horse about, then paused to glance down at Josie. “Don’t plan on her being back before later this afternoon. This latest snowfall is going to slow us down even more.”

  The other woman nodded. “I’m not worried. I know you’ll take good care of Shiloh.” She looked up at her friend. “Good luck. And remember, Captain Jack can be a bit . . . er . . . difficult at times. You don’t have to win him over with just this first meeting.”

  Jesse gave a snort. “Now that’s an understatement, if ever I’ve heard one. I’ll tell you right now that Jack isn’t interested in anything you have to say. Even now, it’s not too late to call it all off.”

  Shiloh’s mouth tightened in irritation. If he thought to scare or intimidate her, he had another thought coming. The only reason she even needed him was to show her the way to the Ute encampment and provide protection against potential renegades or ruffians. Otherwise, she’d have far preferred going it alone.

  Jesse wasn’t coming along because he wanted to. And her gut told her that he’d no intention of making things any easier for her than he could. But then, nothing about this undertaking was going to be easy. Nathan Meeker had made that apparent from the start.

  “Let’s get going, shall we?” she gritted out. “And, for what it’s worth, your counsel has been duly noted.”

  “Yeah, I just bet it has.” He smirked, then nudged his horse forward. “For what it’s worth.”

  As they headed east along the White River, Shiloh vowed a thousand times over that she’d not be the first to speak. No matter how she needed any and all information that might aid her in her attempt to win over first Captain Jack and then his people. Perhaps she could blame her stubbornness partially on wounded pride, but Shiloh also sensed Jesse didn’t plan to be forthcoming. It’d be a lost cause to humble herself and beg him.

  She would’ve, though, if she’d thought her pleas would move him. Too much depended on her success with the Utes to allow pride to get in the way. It wasn’t just about her, anyway, but about her employer and all the people who worked at the Agency. It was also about the Utes and their welfare. And she firmly believed that education and adopting the white man’s ways were their only hope.

  “It’s a fool’s quest, Shiloh,” Jesse said just then, almost as if he was reading her mind. “The People don’t want to learn the white man’s ways. They want to honor their ways, the old ways, the ways of their ancestors. They don’t want to farm. They don’t want to be limited to just a small area for the rest of their lives. They’re hunters. They’re mountain people. It’s in their blood, in their hearts, to roam the land, to follow the seasons and where the food is at the different times of the year. You, of all people, should know that.”

  Shiloh clenched the reins in her hand. Jesse was right. She did know what the Utes wanted. But that no longer mattered. Yet how could she even speak such words, much less conv
ince him to agree and to help her?

  “The old ways don’t work anymore.” She looked over at him. “And wishing it were so and digging in one’s heels and refusing to change is even worse. The People have got to change or they’ll lose whatever freedom they still have.”

  “Adopting the white man’s customs hasn’t helped them so far.” He turned his head to meet her glance, and the look in his dark eyes wasn’t at all encouraging. “The government still keeps lying to them and stealing their lands.”

  “As true as that might be, I can’t do anything about it,” she replied, her exasperation rising once more. “All I can do is help them adapt and learn to live with what they now have. And education is paramount if they are to survive with any of their traditions intact.”

  “Well, good luck.” Once more, Jesse riveted his gaze straight ahead. “You’ll get no help from me.”

  A sudden anger filled her. What a patronizing, officious, narrow-minded boor!

  “And exactly why not?” she demanded. “You’ve lived with both whites and Indians. If you’d an ounce of brains in your head, you’d know what’s to come if the Utes remain on the path they’re currently taking. Or don’t you care?”

  He reined his horse to a halt. Startled, Shiloh did the same. Ever so slowly, Jesse impaled her with an icy glare.

  “Insult my intelligence if you want,” he ground out. “Obviously, you share Meeker’s opinion of our mental capabilities. But don’t ever imagine that I don’t care what happens to the People.”

  “Then why won’t you help me with this? Help me convince the parents to allow their children to be schooled?”