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appearing impolite.
    With a sigh of resignation, he turned along with Persune to greet the two women hurrying up to them. Josephine Meeker he already knew, though he tried to give the outgoing young woman as wide a berth as he did her father and the rest of the Agency employees. And, truth be told, he knew Shiloh as well, indeed better. Or at least he had nine years ago, when she was but a girl of twelve.
    However, she wasn’t a girl anymore but instead a radiant young woman. True, her long red hair seemed almost as unruly as it had when he had last known her, but the color had deepened to a pleasing shade of auburn. The freckles she had loudly and frequently bemoaned had faded and were but a faint, charming sprinkle across her nose. Her sparkling eyes were a gold-and-brown-flecked green, her skin was pale but perfect, and her lips . . .
    With an abrupt shake of his head, Nuaru wrenched his thoughts back to the moment at hand. It didn’t matter what kind of woman Shiloh Wainwright had grown into. She was part of another life. A life he had permanently and gladly turned his back on.
    “Oh, I’m so glad I found you!” Josie said just then, glancing at Persune. “This is my new friend, Shiloh Wainwright. My father hired her because she’s a trained teacher and sure to accomplish far greater things with the children than I ever have.”
    Persune looked to Shiloh. His hand moved to a lock of her hair that had fallen onto her shoulder. He fingered it curiously before letting it go.
    “Very red . . . like a mountain sunset. Pretty.”
    Shiloh smiled. “Thank you.”
    At his friend’s action and Shiloh’s response, Nuaru felt a surprising stab of jealousy overlaid with a fierce protectiveness. She was just innocent enough to imagine that, even with that hair and pale skin of hers, she wouldn’t be a lure to nearly every Indian brave within a hundred miles of here.
    “You’re Nuaru, aren’t you?” Josie next asked, turning to him.
    He nodded. “That’s my Ute name, yes.”
    She took Shiloh’s hand. “Well, this is Shiloh Wain—”
    “I know who she is.”
    He supposed he could’ve phrased it more kindly, but for some reason he dreaded what Shiloh would next say. That she’d reveal his white name and set all sorts of questions into motion that he didn’t want unleashed yet again. There wasn’t much he could do, though, to stop her.
    Josie glanced from him to Shiloh. “Oh?”
    “He’s an old friend,” Shiloh said. “He used to work for my stepfather on our ranch.” She extended her hand to him. “It’s so good to see you again, Jesse.”
    Nuaru stared down at her proffered hand for a long moment, then took it and gave it a brief squeeze before releasing it. “Edmund’s a fool to have let you come here. This is no place for you.”
    Her gaze narrowed. “Well, to catch you up on things, my stepfather died last year. And, for another, I’m a grown woman now and don’t have to account to any man for what I choose to do.”
    “So, you’re not married?” Somehow, that revelation both irritated and pleased him.
    “No.”
    His mouth twisted wryly. “That shouldn’t surprise me, I suppose. You always were a headstrong, independent sort.”
    Shiloh’s chin lifted a notch. “And what about you? If memory serves me, you were always pretty headstrong and independent yourself. Ever find a woman good enough for you?”
    “My woman died three years ago of the smallpox. Seems the Agency got hold of some infected blankets, and unknowingly passed them on to a few unlucky Utes. Onawa was one of them.”
    “Oh no.” She flushed. “I’m so sorry, Jesse. I shouldn’t have said that the way I did. Please forgive me.”
    “It doesn’t matter. It’s over and done with.” Once again, he turned to Persune. “I’m leaving. I can’t stay here.”
    His friend’s brow furrowed, and Nuaru knew he was trying to sort through the conversation—both verbal and nonverbal—that had just transpired between