Greenleigh dug into his tunic and produced a packet of papers. “By the order of General Samuel Whitlock, commander of the Department of New Mexico, I have been instructed to round up these Apaches and transport them directly to the Mescalero reservation.”
Rayna’s feeling of dread blossomed into fear. Skylar would be devastated if they took her friends away. “You can’t be serious,” she said as her father reached for the official documents. “These Indians have been living peacefully on Rancho Verde for three-quarters of a century.”
“That oversight is about to be corrected, Miss Templeton,” Greenleigh said haughtily, as though he didn’t wish to be bothered speaking with a woman.
“Over my dead body,” Rayna replied hotly, incensed by his condescending attitude.
“Rayna, please. I’ll handle this,” Raymond said softly. He glanced through the papers, then handed them back to the captain. “These seem to be in order, but frankly I don’t understand why such a drastic action is being undertaken, Captain Greenleigh. The Mescaleros you see here are no threat to anyone.
They never have been.”
“That is a matter of opinion, sir. Your neighbors see things quite differently. Having these Apaches free to roam the country is a source of concern to all of the settlers in these parts, and they have a right to expect the army to deal with the problem.”
“But there is no problem!”
“General Whitlock feels differently. What with Geronimo on the warpath—”
Rayna could be silent no longer. “Geronimo is in Mexico, and even if he were camped on the outskirts of Albuquerque, it wouldn’t have anything to do with these Indians.”
“There is concern that they may be abetting the renegade.”
“Or, for God’s sake, Captain, how could they possibly be giving aid to a man who is several hundred miles away?”
Greenleigh sighed heavily. “Miss Templeton, I have no desire to debate this issue with you. We are here to subdue the Mescalero and take them to the reservation.”
“Subdue!”
“Rayna, that’s enough,” Raymond said sternly.
If the situation hadn’t been so dismally serious, Meade might have laughed. Miss Templeton was not at all the demure young lady she had appeared to be at first glance, and she seemed more than adequate to the task of bringing Greenleigh down a peg or two. Despite her father’s warning, she showed no sign of calming herself.
“No, Papa, it is not enough,” she argued, though her angry glare never left Greenleigh. “Captain, these people do not need to be subdued. They are house 43
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servants and ranch hands! Most of them have never even lived among their own people. You can’t uproot them from the only home they’ve ever known!”
“I can, and I intend to, Miss Templeton.” He looked at Raymond. “I see no reason for further discussion of this, sir. We will give the Mescaleros one hour to collect whatever belongings they might need, and then we will move out.”
“Now, just a—”
Greenleigh overrode Raymond’s protest. “Do you have someone who can act as an interpreter to explain to them, or would you prefer our interpreter break the news to them?”
“They speak English,” Rayna said viciously, spitting out every word. “And most of them probably read the language better than you do, you ignorant clod!”
This time the captain didn’t look at her. “Mr. Templeton, will you control your daughter, please?”
Meade had finally had about all he could stand. “That’s enough, Captain.
We’re not here to bully these civilians—or the Mescalero, for that matter.”
“Then do something to stop this,” Rayna snapped.
Greenleigh clenched his hands into fists. “Major Ashford is—”
“Major Ashford is perfectly capable of speaking for himself, Captain,”
Meade said briskly. He took a step toward the Templetons, but his gaze was on Rayna. “I am sorry to say, miss, that while I disagree with this action, there is nothing I can do to stop it. General Whitlock’s orders are very specific, and irrevocable. I’m sorry.”
Raymond knew a reasonable man when he saw one, and he was grateful.
“Major, is there anything in those orders that would make it possible for you to delay this action long enough for me to get to Santa Fe and talk to Whitlock? I’ve met the general a number of times, and I feel certain that if I could speak with him personally we could clear this matter up.”
Meade hesitated. If it had been up to him, he would gladly have given Templeton the time he needed, but it wasn’t. Greenleigh jumped in at once to make that clear. “Major Ashford is not in charge of this detail, Mr.
Templeton. He is a surgeon, here only to render whatever medical assistance might be necessary.”
“Expecting a lot of casualties, are you?” Rayna asked Meade sarcastically, cutting him dead with a killing glance.
“Rayna, be still,” Raymond ordered. “In case you hadn’t noticed, Major Ashford is on our side.”
“Yes, but he isn’t doing anything constructive, is he?” she asked, too angered by the injustice of it all to distinguish between friend and foe. “You can spout all the pleasantries you want to, Major, but unless you can take action to stop this, you’re just as bad as he is,” she said with a jerk of her head toward Greenleigh.
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Meade stiffened. Being lumped into the same category with officers like Greenleigh didn’t sit too well. Still, he couldn’t blame the lady for her opinion. “I’m sure that’s how it must appear to you, Miss Templeton.” He looked at his companion. “I’d like a word with you, Captain. Will you excuse us?” he asked the Templetons, then turned on his heel and walked toward the horses.
Though it obviously galled Greenleigh, he didn’t have any choice but to obey this particular request of his superior officer. “Yes, Major?”
“I want you to consider granting Mr. Templeton’s request,” Meade said.
“Give him time to speak with Whitlock.”
“My orders are specific, Major, and I have no intention of disobeying them.”
“Damn it, Robert, I’m asking for latitude, not disobedience. For the love of God, look at those people,” he said, pointing toward the Mescalero. “Those old men and women are no more of a threat to this territory than I am.”
“They’re Apaches,” Greenleigh argued. “Are you forgetting that Chief Nana was nearly ninety years old when he went on the warpath last year? He and his braves butchered dozens of innocent citizens, and I don’t blame General Whitlock one bit for incarcerating these Mescalero, regardless of their age. I wouldn’t want their depredations on my head, either.”
“Be sensible, Robert.”
“I am, sir,” he said, using the most sarcastic tone he dared. “It is you who are out of line here. If I may respectfully remind you, this is my detail, and you have no right to interfere. I will not hold my men over while Templeton puts his suit to the general. I consider that the end of this discussion.”
With a brisk salute, he turned away and rejoined the Templetons. Feeling as thoroughly ineffectual as Miss Templeton had accused him of being, Meade followed.
“I’m sorry, sir,” Greenleigh said to Raymond, “but my orders do not allow for the type of latitude you requested. These Indians have one hour to collect their belongings and be ready to move out, or we will take them forcibly.
Now, sir, do you want to tell them, or shall I?”
“I will,” Raymond said after a moment.
“Papa!” Rayna whirled toward him and discovered that her father had aged a dozen years in a single, telling second. The sight of him nearly broke her heart.