A Love Forbidden Read Online Free PDF

Ute men do. Well, aside from racing their ponies.”
    She paused, her smile fading. “My father had such high expectations of changing their ways when he first came to the Agency. He wanted to turn the Utes into progressive, self-sustaining farmers. So far, all my father’s been able to get them to do is dig one irrigation ditch, and to get them to do even that, he had to threaten to withhold their supplies. Now, he just shakes his head and says they’re lazy.”
    Unease rippled through Shiloh, and she quickly ignored it. Nathan Meeker’s letter in response to her application for the teaching position had certainly not made mention of such difficulties. He had, instead, written a glowing account of all he’d accomplished since his arrival last July, and all he still intended to do to help the heretofore nomadic White River Utes adapt to a farming lifestyle. His letter had excited and inspired Shiloh, who had always wanted to play a part in helping the Indians of Colorado.
    Whether the Utes realized it or not, their days of roaming their beloved mountains were numbered. Since the end of the War between the States, the influx of settlers seeking a fresh start was rapidly growing. And, with the discovery of gold deep in the southern Utes’ territory of the San Juan Mountains of Colorado in 1858, soon followed by the unearthing of additional gold and silver veins throughout the Rocky Mountains, the relentless onslaught of miners had only compounded the problem. The Ute way of life required they have a vast territory to roam in pursuit of game and other food, and the white interlopers couldn’t understand why such a small number of people needed such large amounts of land. Sooner or later, these two opposing ways of life were bound to clash. Unfortunately, past events had already proven that the Utes wouldn’t come out well.
    “It takes time—and education—to change long-held beliefs,” Shiloh replied instead. “Surely we can find some common ground on which to build a mutually respectful relationship. The Utes are as much God’s children as we are, after all.”
    “Yes,” Josie said with a nod, “they are. Father isn’t very good, though, at hiding his opinion of the Utes as exactly that. Children. And they resent him for that, among other things.”
    Shiloh sighed. “The ones I’ve known have been far from childish. They’re kind, friendly, generous people. But they’re also proud and fiercely independent.”
    “Oh, you won’t get any argument from me on those counts,” her companion said with a chuckle as they neared the brush corral and a crowd of Utes milling around outside. “I like them very much.”
    There was an air of excitement mixed with much laughter and joviality in the colorfully dressed people slowly filing into the enclosure. The women wore moccasins and long, soft, white buckskin dresses covered with buckskin capes that were beaded with porcupine quills and elk teeth, the sleeves of the dresses fringed, as were the hems. Their long, thick, black hair was parted in the middle and either hung loose or in two braids. The men were garbed in heavily fringed buckskin shirts with the traditional V flap in front, and fringed leggings with moccasins on their feet. Some of them decorated their braids with animal fur coverings, and others wore their braids unadorned.
    “Those are their ceremonial clothes,” Josie offered. “Usually the men wear trade cloth shirts with their leggings, and the women’s dresses can be a combination of trade cloth and buckskin. When it’s really cold, they add buffalo robes and fur hats or robes made from gray wolf or coyote or badger fur.”
    “But not today,” Shiloh added with a smile.
    “No, not today. Their buckskin clothes are pretty warm, and it’s not that cold.”
    Josie paused to survey the Utes inside the corral. “Oh, good,” she said at last. “There’s Persune. He’s a member of Chief Douglas’s band.” Her mouth tilted upward in a smile.