“And that’s all?” Rayna asked scornfully.
Meade’s face hardened against his anger at his own impotence. “For the time being, yes,” he said tightly.
“And what are we supposed to do in the meantime, Major? What do I tell my father when he asks why Skylar isn’t at his bedside?”
Meade hadn’t considered that, and it worried him. He wasn’t sure that Raymond Templeton’s heart could stand the strain of knowing his adopted daughter had been kidnapped. “It would be in your father’s best interests to forestall giving him the news as long as possible.”
Rayna felt her heart turn over painfully. “You mean the shock could kill him?”
“Yes.”
She barely found the breath to ask her next question. “Is he going to die anyway?”
Meade found it difficult to look at her. “It is possible that he won’t survive the night, Miss Templeton,” he said as gently as he could. “However, if he can make it through the next few days, he might very well live to a ripe old age if he avoids strenuous physical activity.”
Tears stung Rayna’s eyes, and she turned away quickly before the major could see them. “Then I ask you again, what should I tell Papa when he wants to see Skylar?”
He thought it over. “Perhaps I could tell him it’s in his best interests to have no visitors at all for the time being.”
“Then I wouldn’t be able to see him, either?” she asked, her voice strangled.
“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I can think of to keep him from questioning Skylar’s absence.”
Rayna thought about the coming night, knowing that her father might die without having seen either of his daughters. There would be no chance for her to tell him how very much she loved him, no chance to hold his hand or to gather strength from just being in his presence. But for his sake she had no other choice.
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Choking back tears, she nodded mutely, then cleared her throat and turned to Meade, her eyes dry. “Very well. Tell him that Skylar and I love him very much, and we are praying for him.”
Meade’s admiration for her rose another notch. “I’m very sorry, Miss Templeton. I know what that decision cost you.”
His sympathy was more than Rayna could stand. “Just deliver my message, Major Ashford. Save your sympathy for someone who needs it.”
So much for his growing admiration. “Yes, ma’am,” he said briskly, turning toward the study.
Rayna regretted her outburst before he’d made it halfway to the door.
“Major, I’m sorry,” she said, hurrying after him. “I do appreciate everything you’re doing for my father.”
Meade touched the caduceus on his collar. “I’m a doctor, Miss Templeton, and I take my Hippocratic oath very seriously. Considering how ineffectual I’ve been in other areas today, this is the least I can do.”
For the first time, Rayna caught a glimpse of his self-loathing and realized that he was frustrated and angry, too. It made him seem a little more human to her, and she didn’t like it. If she acknowledged that this wasn’t Ashford’s fault, she would no longer have anyone to vent her rage on; and at the moment, having someone specific to blame was oddly consoling.
“Major, Captain Greenleigh said that you were to rejoin the regiment as soon as another doctor could be brought out to take charge of my father.”
He raised his eyebrows questioningly. “And?”
Rayna hesitated. “The nearest doctor is in Albuquerque, and he has made it clear in previous emergencies that he doesn’t travel outside the city.”
“Don’t worry, Miss Templeton. I’m in no hurry to rejoin the regiment. I had already planned to stay through the night.”
Rayna nodded and gave him the closest thing to a smile that she could muster. “Thank you. I’ll prepare rooms for you and Private Baker.”
“A room for Baker won’t be necessary,” Meade replied. “As soon as I’ve checked on your father again, I’m going to prepare a dispatch for the private to deliver to Fort Marcy.”
“Thank you, Major.”
“It’s my pleasure, Miss Templeton.” He turned again and disappeared into his makeshift hospital.
Somewhere in the house a clock had just struck midnight, and the full moon was almost directly overhead as Meade stepped into the courtyard and stretched his arms. He was getting too old for late night vigils like this one, but there was consolation in the knowledge that his patient was sleeping comfortably.
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Exhausted, Meade dropped into the nearest chair and ran one hand wearily over his face. Lanterns suspended from the balcony made pools of warm golden light that contrasted sharply with the cool silver moonlight. In this lovely shadowed setting, it would take only a little imagination to envision elegant ladies in ball gowns dancing in the arms of their gallant escorts or strolling through the arcade into the garden.
But there was no music in the hacienda tonight, and Meade was afraid that gaiety had been forever banished from the Templeton home. An eerie silence pervaded the house, and with good reason. In the course of a single day the pleasant, peaceful life Raymond Templeton had carved out for his family had been irrevocably shattered. A decent, hardworking man was lying at death’s door, his wife at his side, emotionally crippled by her husband’s illness and by the heartless kidnapping of her adopted daughter.
Though Raymond had been kept in the dark about Skylar’s abduction, Colleen had known something was wrong the first time she stepped out of the sickroom. Meade hadn’t envied Rayna having to give her mother the news. Collie was carrying on as best she could, keeping up the charade for her husband’s sake, but Meade knew she was too numb to truly comprehend what had happened.
And what of the lovely Skylar? What was she going through tonight? he wondered. From what little he’d gleaned this afternoon and evening, Miss Skylar Templeton had been rescued from slavery and raised in this genteel atmosphere, sheltered from many of the cruelties the rest of her people had been subjected to over the years. Meade had no doubt that eventually the Templetons would succeed in getting her released, but that could take days or weeks. In the meantime, the young woman would be living a nightmare.
Ripped from her family, not knowing whether her father was dead or alive . . .
Meade couldn’t help but pity her. Tomorrow when he rejoined the regiment, he would be able to report to her on her father’s health. He only hoped the news he had to give her would be encouraging.
As for Skylar’s sister . . . Meade wasn’t quite sure what to make of Miss Rayna Templeton. She was salt and vinegar, pepper and spice. She had a temper unlike any he’d ever seen before, but she also had a wellspring of strength and courage that kept her disposition from being childish or petulant. During the course of the evening he’d found out what a competent woman she was.
With her mother totally occupied with Raymond, Rayna had taken charge of the household—indeed, the entire ranch. More than once Meade had seen her conferring with the ranch foreman, giving orders and assuaging everyone’s deep concern. Most of the house servants had been taken away, but Rayna’s firm hand had turned chaos into order in the hacienda. At her bidding, the remaining servants had prepared meals and converted a small parlor near the 60
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front of the house into a bedchamber. As soon as he’d felt it was safe, Meade had moved his patient into the more comfortable surroundings.