Heart of the Rockies Collection

by Kathleen Morgan

  Yet another part of her wanted to be far away from here. Far away, riding at Jesse’s side wherever that might take her. For when he’d left today, just like before, he’d taken a part of her with him. A part she had given him when she had given him her heart.

  The front door creaked open. Shiloh glanced toward it and saw her brother. She inwardly groaned. Here comes the lecture.

  Cord closed the door and walked over to where she was sitting on the bench. “Mind if I share that with you?” he asked, indicating the empty spot beside her. “After such a fine meal, which I of course ate too much of, I’m in need of some fresh air.”

  “Suit yourself.” She scooted over to make even more room.

  He settled himself beside her, leaned back with his long legs stretched out before him, and sighed. For a time they sat there, neither of them speaking, with Shiloh growing tenser by the moment. Finally, she could bear it no more.

  “There’s something you should know about what happened between Jesse and Jordan,” she blurted out. “Something no one’s known save Jordan, Jesse, and me.”

  “Really,” he asked with an arch of a dark brow. “And what would that be?”

  Shiloh inhaled a deep breath. “Jordan was the one who did the enticing that day in the barn. Jesse just went along with it.”

  Her brother seemed to take awhile to ponder that revelation. “It’s not fair to make such accusations at a time when Jordan can’t defend herself. And why now, after all these years?”

  “Because I’m sick and tired of everyone blaming Jesse. Like you blamed him yet again today, if with a different sister.”

  “Well, he was definitely caught both times alone in the barn with one of my sisters. What did you suppose I would think?”

  “That maybe both times, your sisters wanted him to hold them, kiss them? Because you would’ve been right to think that. The only difference is, I’ll admit that I wanted it. And I won’t blame him for getting caught.”

  Cord scratched his jaw but never once looked her way. “And Jordan lied about it, is that it?”

  Though the truth would likely not sit well with her brother, it was still the truth. “Yes,” she said. “She lied because she was afraid of what the consequences would be for her. Afraid it might besmirch her spotless reputation.” Shiloh gave a sardonic laugh. “As if any man on the ranch, outside our family, thought her reputation was so spotless.”

  “And what exactly are you implying about our sister?” Cord demanded, pivoting on the bench to lock gazes with her.

  Startled, Shiloh leaned away from him. “I’m not implying anything. Because I don’t know how far she allowed things to go with any of the hands she took a fancy to. All I know is Jordan was a tease, and she enjoyed testing her feminine wiles on any man who paid her the slightest attention.”

  “Sounds like there’s a tinge of jealousy in those claims.”

  “Cord,” Shiloh said in exasperation, “I long ago accepted I’d never attract men like Jordan always did. So I concentrated, instead, on being a good friend and improving my mind. And now, after what’s happened to Jordan, I’m even more convinced I chose the better path.”

  “I didn’t realize, all this time, that you held such a grudge against your sister.”

  She gave a mirthless laugh. “And you think it’s because I envied Jordan her beauty and easy ways with men?”

  “Isn’t it?”

  “No.” Shiloh shook her head, sad that Cord would think her so petty, but determined to tell the truth and stand up for Jesse. “Until that day she betrayed Jesse and, in the doing, set him up for that whipping, I didn’t hold any grudges against her. Sometimes she made me mad, but all sisters and brothers do that to each other. No, after that day, I just lost all respect for her and never trusted her again. And, as ashamed as I am to admit it, I couldn’t forgive her either. I tried and tried, but I just couldn’t.”

  “Then why did you even bother coming home, when we sent you word of how bad off she was?”

  She clasped her hands together in her lap and looked down at them. “Because I realized I might lose her. Because in spite of it all, I still love her. And finding Jesse again began to make me think about things, like mercy, compassion, and acceptance.”

  “You have feelings for him, don’t you?”

  “Yes.” Shiloh lifted her gaze to his. “Yes, I do, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.”

  “Even though—”

  “Even though he’s a half-breed?” Shiloh asked, finishing the sentence.

  “No, actually,” her brother said, shooting her a sardonic look, “I was going to say, even though he’s a very angry man who doesn’t seem to know where he fits in.”

  “Jesse has decided to live with his mother’s people. They seem far more willing to accept him than his father’s people ever have.”

  “So where do you fit into all of that, little sister? Got a hankering to live like a Ute now, have you?”

  She was loath to admit she hadn’t given that much thought. All she knew was she wanted to be with Jesse. But, now that the subject had been broached, could she truly be happy living with the Utes?

  “I don’t know, Cord. It hasn’t gotten that far between us. And maybe it never will.”

  “Well, that would suit me just fine.” He stood. “Because I’m not so sure he’s good enough for you, little sister.”

  “Well, if you hadn’t run him off today . . .”

  “My point exactly. If he isn’t willing to fight to have you, then maybe that should tell you something.”

  Shiloh didn’t know what to say to that, so she just quietly stared up at her brother.

  “I’m going to turn in. So should you.”

  She nodded. “In a few more minutes. I just want to sit out here awhile longer.”

  “Well, good night then.”

  “Good night.” Shiloh hesitated. “No one else has to know what I told you about what Jordan really did that day. I wouldn’t even have told you, if you hadn’t been so hard on Jesse today.”

  “So, no one in the family knows? Why’s that?”

  “Who would’ve believed me? They’d all have decided that I was jealous. Just like you did.”

  “That’s a lot of baggage to carry around for such a long time.”

  “Yes,” she said, filled with the sudden realization that keeping such a secret was like closing over a festering wound and never allowing it to heal. “It was, and I think it didn’t serve me or Jordan very well.”

  “Maybe not.” Her brother leaned down and gave her a tender peck on the cheek. “Now all you’ve got to decide is where the Lord fits into all of this, and what He’d want you to do.”

  12

  Somehow, Jesse managed to keep his thoughts from wandering to his parting from Shiloh that morning. Managed, that was, until he made camp for the night. Then he had nothing to distract him. Then there was nothing to do such as racing his pony, fording streams, climbing hills, and constantly scanning the terrain for anything unexpected or unfriendly.

  But in the quiet of a star-pierced, blackened night, with only the company of his pony and a crackling fire, Jesse’s head was flooded with memories and his heart with emotions. Emotions that were, at best, bittersweet.

  Once again, he had fled rather than face what was happening between him and Shiloh. That he loved her and wanted her for his own. But the confrontation with her brother had only confirmed what he’d always known. That he would never be considered good enough for her, that his motives would always be suspect.

  And, in truth, what could he offer Shiloh? Life on a reservation, living like a Ute? Not that it was such a bad life, just one he knew she wasn’t accustomed to. But at least there they’d be accepted as a mixed-blood couple.

  If he chose instead to take her off the reservation, they’d have to face the ostracism and unkindness of many of their neighbors. As would any children they might have.

  Could any love long endure such obstacles thrown in its way? His own
parents’ relationship hadn’t, but then Jesse wasn’t convinced it had ever been a love match to begin with. He’d never seen any affection shown to his mother by his father. And, as the years went by, his father became more and more abusive. Until Jesse was old and big enough to finally stop him.

  He tossed that unpleasant memory into the fire along with another piece of wood. His parents’ fate didn’t have to be his. Nonetheless, he didn’t have much hope of a lasting marriage with Shiloh.

  She loved her family, and if Cord Wainwright’s reaction was any indication, it didn’t look like they’d be eagerly stepping forward to accept him. Jordan, if she ever regained any semblance of a normal life, likely wouldn’t either. To do so would require her to acknowledge her part in the fiasco that had been their liaison. And Jesse doubted that day would ever come.

  No, he thought as he leaned back on his bedding and cradled his head in his hands, as hard as it had been today to ride away from Shiloh, he knew he’d done the only thing he could. In time, Shiloh would realize that too. All that was needed was for them to put as much distance between each other as they could.

  And each remain where they truly belonged.

  In the ensuing days, it soon became apparent that Jordan’s recovery was going to be a long, tiring, and frustrating one. Though she could remember Emma, her two brothers, and her sister, she had no recollection of Sarah. And, though she knew she was the wife of Robert Travers, she had no memory of the night he’d almost killed her. She was also unaware that baby Cecilia, even when shown to her, was her own child.

  As the three women of the household took turns caring for her and working to help her regain her memory, the full scope of what Jordan had lost with her brain injury was gradually revealed. She had trouble identifying the names of some objects, while others she immediately knew. Her usually flawless handwriting was greatly impaired, and at first they couldn’t even decipher what she wrote. She could barely read above a first grader’s level.

  Jordan’s days of progress, however minuscule it sometimes seemed, were usually followed by a few days’ relapse when she fell back into exhaustion and pain. Her mood was frequently very low as well, in the moments when she’d realize how much she had to relearn. The only bright spot was that, though she was weak and unsteady, she had good use of her arms and legs. With help, she soon managed to walk around in her bedroom, then down the hall, and finally out onto the front porch to sit in a comfortable rocker for some fresh air.

  One hot, late June afternoon almost three months after her horrifying beating, Jordan and Shiloh decided to cool off by sitting on the front porch. As Jordan contentedly watched the ranch activities, Shiloh busied herself shelling some freshly picked peas. The mild spring weather this year had encouraged a bumper crop of peas, spinach, and salad greens. The pole beans, summer squash, potatoes, and various other warmer weather vegetables had just been planted a few weeks ago. If the weather continued to be favorable, this would be a good year for putting up a lot of vegetables to enjoy through the next winter.

  Shiloh loved working in the garden, digging in the rich dirt, planting seeds and watering them, and then watching as the first leaves broke through and reached toward the sun. She found the picking of the harvest produced by the lovingly nurtured plants satisfying, and the preparation of all the vegetables for storage comforting and reassuring. But then, she’d always reveled in almost all the chores of ranch life. Even the smelly work of shoveling manure into the compost pile, which eventually turned into rich nutrients to add to the garden soil.

  “Here,” Jordan said of a sudden. “Let me help.” She reached over to take the bowl of unshelled peas from her sister.

  “Oh, it’s okay,” Shiloh said. “I enjoy doing this.”

  “Yes, but I need to use my . . . my . . .” A look of confusion spread across her face. “What do you call this?” she asked, holding up a hand.

  “It’s a hand.” Shiloh smiled. “Can you spell it, Jordan? The word hand?”

  As if in intense concentration, her sister scrunched up her brow but finally shook her head. “It’s there, just beyond my reach,” she said. “But I just . . . can’t . . . remember.”

  Shiloh leaned over and handed her the bowl of unshelled peas. “It’ll come. It’s just going to take time and a lot of patience. And you spell it h-a-n-d.”

  Jordan thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “Yes, I do remember that.” She lowered her head and began to expertly open a pea pod and then slide her thumb down its interior to expel the plump, light green peas.

  Pulling up the small table that held their glasses of cider, Shiloh placed the other bowl of shelled peas between them, then reached over and took a handful of pea pods to work on in her lap. They labored in companionable silence for a while, Shiloh stealing occasional covert glances at her sister. It was almost as if she still couldn’t believe Jordan had survived, and needed a reassuring reminder from time to time.

  The bandages had been removed for good about a month ago, and Jordan’s head, which had been shaved for the surgery, was now covered in short blonde curls. The terrible bruises had completely faded, and her split lip had healed save for a faintly darker red line. She was still thin and pale, but her appetite seemed to be improving with each passing day. Save for any unexpected complications, Doc Saunders had pronounced her well on the road to recovery.

  Robert Travers’s trial date was set for a week from today. Cord, a trained lawyer, would prosecute the case. His considerable criminal trial skills, combined with the community outrage at the severe brutality of the act and the Wainwrights’ influence in the area, would likely ensure Robert’s conviction. Even his own family had distanced themselves from him, despite his claims that Jordan had driven him to hit her, and that she had fallen against the stone fireplace mantel and cracked her skull. The injuries were just far too severe to claim they were all “accidental.”

  Shiloh struggled with the need to forgive him, though she knew her religious faith required it. She tried, but then every time she saw her sister, how she looked and how she fought to regain her memory of things that had always come so easily for her, Shiloh’s fury at Jordan’s husband would flare into a fiery conflagration yet again. After a time, she decided to lay her conflict at the Lord’s feet and just concentrate on helping her sister.

  Surprisingly, these days she found herself actually looking forward to being with Jordan. Something had changed in their relationship. Shiloh knew part of it was that her sister wasn’t the same as before. Jordan was unsure, physically weak, and mentally struggling. But it was more than just Shiloh holding an unaccustomed position of superiority over her.

  Jordan was so appreciative of even the smallest things done for her. She thanked everyone profusely. She didn’t pretend to be happy, that everything was wonderful, when it wasn’t. She was open and honest.

  Perhaps, in time, her sister would regain enough of her memory to become the old Jordan again. If that happened, Shiloh knew she wouldn’t begrudge her, for it would mean Jordan had fully recovered. Still, she couldn’t help but enjoy this special time. She’d been given a great gift in the chance to make amends for her part in the sisterly estrangement. And she meant to make the most of it.

  Even the passing thought of the cause of the estrangement, however, soon stirred memories of Jesse. By now, he’d been back at the White River reservation for about two months. Shiloh wondered if he ever gave her a passing thought. All the hard work she put in every day from dawn to dusk did little to banish him from her mind.

  The sensible thing to do, she well knew, was to take him at his word and leave him be. The sensible thing to do was to use the quite legitimate excuse of her sister’s care needs to end her employment at the Agency. Doing so would effectively—and quite permanently—sever any contact with Jesse. But every time she sat down to write a letter to Nathan Meeker to include in a weekly letter she always wrote Josie, something always held her back.

  The Indian agent, via his daugh
ter, kept informing her to take all the time she needed to help her sister. He assured her that her position would remain open for at least another few months before he would be compelled to begin looking for another teacher. And so Shiloh put that decision on the back burner as well.

  As the days and weeks passed, Jordan ever so gradually improved. If one looked at her handwriting on a day-to-day basis, one saw little progress. But Shiloh wisely saved weekly samples, and when her sister would get discouraged, she’d pull out earlier ones to show the slight but encouraging gains. There were still memory issues and what seemed, over time, to be lasting changes in Jordan’s personality. She continued with balance issues, but with the help of the cane her brother Nick fashioned for her with a cunning horse’s head at the top, she was finally able to get around independently.

  Still, an aura of melancholy hung over her. Though gradually Jordan ceased disavowing that little Ceci was her daughter, it was more than evident that something was blocking her true acceptance of that fact. Shiloh suspected her sister’s denial hinged on her continued muddled memories of Robert Travers and the night he’d nearly killed her. Muddled memories and sudden if lessening attacks of panic and near hysteria.

  Both Shiloh and Sarah tried all sorts of activities to cheer up Jordan. Like today’s picnic lunch down by the creek that ran through the ranch property, just over the hill separating them from view of the main house. It had been a sweltering, very dry summer with many wildfires burning throughout the Rockies, and the three women had longed for any excuse to get out of the overly warm house. So, one hot day near the end of August, Sarah had convinced Shiloh and Jordan that a picnic would be a most splendid idea.

  Since Sarah, by now, was in her last month of pregnancy, and Jordan had all she could manage just walking down to the creek, Shiloh offered to carry the blanket and picnic basket. The smells of Emma’s delicious fried chicken, buttermilk biscuits, thick-sliced garden tomatoes, and still warm from the oven applesauce raisin cookies made her mouth water. The ever-thoughtful housekeeper had also included a big jar of cider, tin cups, and, besides a plate for the tomatoes, large cloth napkins to put the rest of the food on.