“Good. He doesn’t look well.” Skylar glanced around. “If you can drag him away from Consayka, you should take him home immediately.”
“Thank you, dear. I believe I will.”
“I should be getting back now,” Skylar said. As she rose, she glanced in the direction of the house, barely visible in the distance, and she frowned. “What is that, I wonder?”
Collie twisted around and Rayna stood. A cloud of dust was rising out of one of the shallow flats between the Mescalero encampment and the hacienda. A murmur of voices nearer to the ceremonial grounds suggested that the Templetons were not the only ones to notice the phenomenon.
“Looks like company’s coming,” Raymond said as he joined his family under the cottonwood. A moment later that prediction was borne out as two flags appeared on the rise, announcing the arrival of a long column of cavalry troops.
“What the devil are they doing here?” Rayna muttered.
Collie chided Rayna for her language, and Skylar glanced nervously behind her at the cluster of Mescaleros who were gathering near the ceremonial lodge. “I must get back to White Painted Woman.” She placed one hand on her father’s arm, drawing his attention down to her. “You won’t let them disrupt the ceremony, will you, Papa?”
Raymond wrapped one arm around his daughter and gave her an encouraging hug. “Of course not, princess. Don’t you worry about a thing. They probably just want to ask permission to make camp nearby.”
Wanting to believe it was that simple, Skylar hurried off, the cones on her dress tinkling lightly as she walked.
As the cavalry drew closer, Rayna spotted Gil Rodriguez riding alongside the officers at the head of the queue. That made sense, since Gil would have been on hand to greet them when they arrived at the hacienda. He had undoubtedly offered to take them to Raymond, but if they only wanted permission to camp on Rancho Verde land, why hadn’t the officer in charge come out here alone? Why bring his hot, dusty troops along?
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Whether their slow pace was a concession to the heat or a sign of the lack of urgency, Rayna couldn’t have guessed, but it seemed to take them forever to arrive.
As they drew close, Raymond finally stepped out of the shade to greet them, and though Collie hung back a few paces, Rayna was right at her father’s side.
At the head of the column, Meade Ashford studied the scene before him with dread. He had disliked this detail from the moment he had been assigned to it three days ago, and what he saw now made him detest it all the more. A man was coming toward them with an attractive young woman at his side and another lady slightly behind. All three were tall and fair-haired with complex-ions more suited to Nordic winters than to desert summers. They looked like a pleasant family out for an afternoon picnic.
The fact that they had permitted a group of Apaches to live and work on their land indicated that they had some attachment to the Mescalero the cavalry was about to incarcerate. This wasn’t going to be a pleasant confrontation for anyone, with the possible exception of Robert Greenleigh. In Meade’s opinion, the captain was displaying far too much relish for the task at hand.
His intolerance of all Apaches, friend or foe, was well known, and Meade was certain he couldn’t be counted on to bend an inch.
The ranch foreman, Rodriguez, had said the Mescalero were engaged in some sort of ritual, and from the looks of things, Meade guessed that it was a maiden ceremony. Over the years, Libby had coerced him into attending a number of Apache rites, and the maiden ceremony had been his first. It wasn’t one of his fondest memories, but neither was it something he was likely to forget.
Looking beyond the man and two women near the cottonwood, Meade studied the cluster of Mescaleros near the ceremonial grounds. A maiden ceremony indicated the presence of a teenaged girl, but Meade was struck immediately by the noticeable absence of young children. Usually they were everywhere at events like this. The Indians he saw were mostly old men and women, and a few middle-aged couples.
These were the Apache he’d been sent to subdue? It was absurd. These people weren’t about to make trouble for anyone.
Captain Greenleigh, whose pomaded muttonchops and bushy mustache had long since wilted in the heat, gave a signal to the sergeant behind him, and the troops came to a halt a short distance from their welcoming party.
“Mr. Raymond Templeton?”
“That’s right, Captain,” Raymond said cautiously.
“Mr. Templeton, I am Captain Robert Greenleigh, and this is Major Meade Ashford of the One Hundred-fortieth Regiment of the United States Cavalry.”
“Gentlemen,” Raymond said with a nod. “My wife, Colleen, and my daughter, Rayna.”
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Both officers touched their hats in acknowledgment of the ladies, then dismounted. As they came off their horses, Rayna noticed the gold oak leaves on the shoulder of the second officer and wondered why a major would allow a subordinate to do the talking. They handed their reins to a waiting sergeant and stepped forward.
Meade removed his hat. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir, ladies. We apologize for the interruption.” He gestured toward the brush-covered lodge. “This is a maiden ceremony in progress, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is,” Rayna replied, surprised by his knowledge. “How did you know?”
“I recognized the maiden lodge and some of the other accoutrements,”
Meade replied, looking at her closely for the first time. She wasn’t quite as young as he’d first thought, but she was even more attractive. She was, in fact, quite beautiful. Her simple skirt and shirtwaist highlighted a trim but well-curved figure, and delectable wisps of her upswept blond hair clung damply to her face, framing her lightly tanned skin and arresting blue eyes.
“You’ve seen this Mescalero ceremony before?” she asked.
“No,” Meade replied. “My knowledge of Apache rituals comes chiefly from the White Mountain tribes. The similarity is inescapable, though.”
Since the moment she had seen them approaching, Rayna had been gripped by a feeling of impending disaster, but this courteous, knowledgeable officer gave her hope that nothing was amiss. He was considerably older than the captain, but he appeared far more approachable than the arrogant, wooden-faced officer at his side, who seemed irritated and impatient with the exchange of pleasantries.
Major Ashford was also much more handsome than the captain, Rayna noted in a purely analytical manner. His face, lacking a fashionable mustache or beard, had a rugged quality to it that appealed to her—as did his eyes.
There was an innate kindness in them.
The tiny caduceus on the choke collar of his tunic indicated that he was a physician and, as such, was only an addendum to the military detail rather than an important part of the command structure. That explained why the captain appeared to be in charge.
“Our friends are preparing for the next ritual,” she informed the major. “It is Cane Set Out, I believe. You’re more than welcome to watch, gentlemen.”
“Thank you for the invitation, Miss Templeton, but that won’t be possible,”
Greenleigh said tersely, darting an irritated glance at Meade.
“Then what can we do for you, Major Ashford?” Raymond asked.
“We’re here about these Mescaleros,” Greenleigh said, drawing the attention back to himself. Clearly he didn’t want anyone attaching importance to the presence of a superior officer.
“What about them?” Raymond asked.
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