Moonsong
Moonsong
Constance Bennett
No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, scanning or any information storage retrieval system, without explicit permission in writing from the Author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locals or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
© Copyright 1992 by Constance Bennett
First e-reads publication 1999
www.e-reads.com
ISBN 0-7592-0948-0
Other works by Constance Bennett also available in e-reads editions
Blossom
Morning Sky
Moonsong
Prologue
[ e - r e a d s ]
Prologue
New Mexico Territory, 1863
The deep masculine voice woke her. It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to infiltrate the restless slumber of five-year-old Rayna Templeton and bring her upright in her bed. She paused a moment, listening carefully, hardly daring to breathe until she heard the voice again.
There was no mistaking it. Papa had finally come home!
Her face wreathed in a joyous smile, Rayna threw back the coverlet and scrambled out of bed. Her bare feet were virtually silent as she flew across the room and onto the balcony that overlooked the interior courtyard of the hacienda. Overhead, the sky was awash with stars, and lanterns at the foot of the staircases cast patterns of light and dancing shadows, but otherwise the courtyard was empty. The voice was more distinct, though, and Rayna knew she hadn’t been mistaken.
Her father had left for Sonora to buy cattle five weeks ago, and every day he’d been gone had been an eternity for Rayna and her mother. There were so many dangers between Rancho Verde and Mexico—deserts and mountains, scorpions and snakes, bears and mountain lions—but those were simple hazards that Raymond Templeton was more than equipped to handle. The Apache were far more dangerous than all the others combined, 1
Prologue
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and every moment he’d stayed away had meant one more day of waiting and praying.
But now he was home.
Imagining how he would sweep her into his arms and toss her into the air with a big barrel-chested laugh, Rayna hurried down the stairs and into the courtyard, straining to hear his voice. The way the sound carried up told her he was in his study, and the second voice that joined his indicated that her mother was with him. Colleen would be irritated when she learned that her daughter was out of bed at this late hour, but Rayna didn’t care. She was accustomed to being in trouble, and besides, she knew from experience that the worst punishment she was likely to get from her softhearted mother was a mild scolding.
Seeing Papa again would be worth that and much more.
Her feet barely touched the cool flagstone as she dashed across the courtyard and down a darkened corridor toward the study. Her parents’ voices grew louder, bringing Rayna to a halt a few feet short of the pool of light that beamed out the half-open door of the study. She crept closer and listened.
“But, Collie, what else could I do?” Raymond Templeton was saying. “Look at the poor thing. She’s not even as old as our Rayna, and already she’s been through a hell you and I couldn’t begin to imagine.”
“You can’t know that,” Colleen argued.
“Of course I know it—and so do you. Those damnable Mexican slave traders didn’t just find the poor thing wandering alone in the mountains. She wasn’t rescued—she was stolen, probably after watching her parents be murdered and scalped. I couldn’t just leave her in Sonora, could I? God only knows what would have become of her!”
“But, Raymond, she’s—”
“She’s a frightened little girl,” he said, overriding whatever objection Colleen had been about to make. “What else matters? Rayna has been begging for a sister—”
“That’s not fair,” Collie said quietly, her voice filled with pain. “I’ve tried to give you another child.”
Heavy footsteps crossed the room, and when Raymond spoke again, his tone conveyed nothing but love. “I know, Collie. And I also know how many nights I’ve held you while you cried because you have so much love to give and only Rayna to lavish it on. But look at this little one, Collie—really look at her, and you’ll see how much she needs you.”
“I don’t want to look at her.”
“That’s because you know you’ll fall in love with her the same way I did.
Just look, Collie.”
There was a long pause and then the sound of footsteps softly padding across the study floor.
2
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Tossing her long fall of golden hair over her narrow shoulders, Rayna held her breath and peeked around the door. She spied her father first, but as much as she longed to greet him, she was even more curious about the present he had brought her. A sister! What could be more wonderful than that?
Rayna was the only child at Rancho Verde, and she was lonely. Now she’d never be alone again. She would have a playmate and a friend, someone to run wild with and to ease the boredom of the hours she spent doing her lessons in reading and etiquette, someone to share her chores with and dream with and talk to.
Her heart filled with hope and expectation, Rayna looked deeper into the room, past her mother, who was moving toward the hearth, until her rapt gaze finally fell on a small, dirty bundle of black hair and buckskin cowering by the fireplace. A pair of enormous dark eyes stared up at Collie Templeton out of a gaunt face covered with dirt. Despite the smudges, there was no mistaking the origin of that face. The hair, the high cheekbones, the square jaw, the copper-colored skin, all told Rayna that her new sister was an Apache!
With a pitying moan, Collie knelt by the hearth, but when she extended her hand, the child scurried away like a cornered animal fleeing its would-be captor. The wild-eyed little Apache threw herself at Raymond Templeton’s feet and clung to his leg, shielding herself from the strange white woman.
Collie followed, stopping a few feet away to look at her husband.
“Oh, Raymond, she’s so frightened. How did you get her to come with you?”
He looked sad and tired. “I wish I could say it was hard, but it wasn’t. The poor little thing had been whipped into submission long before I found her.
Some hot food and a few gentle words were enough to convince her she was better off with me than with those slave traders.”
Collie looked down at the pitiful waif, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. “You’ll be all right, little one,” she said softly.
Raymond smiled. “Thank you, Collie.”
She shook her head. “Raising an Apache won’t be easy, Raymond. How much do you know about where she came from?”
“Not much,” he admitted. “The traders I bought her from claimed they purchased her and several other children from a band of renegade Chiricahua.
From the looks of her clothes, they guessed that she was from the White Mountain tribe.”
Collie nodded thoughtfully. “Do you think she might be able to communicate with the Mescalero Apaches here on the ranch?”
“That’s what I was hoping. Surely Gatana can help us.”
“We’ll need all we can get.” She knelt, and the little Apache skittered away again, this time moving unerringly toward the door. Raymond uttered a soft, 3