“You have the train schedule memorized?”
She nodded. “I’ve had two weeks to plan my speedy, triumphant departure.
I hadn’t allowed myself to consider the possibility that I might return home in utter defeat.”
“You’re not defeated, Rayna. Merely delayed.” Meade pulled a pocket watch from his tunic. It was nearly 2:00 P.M. “If you’re leaving at six, I have plenty of time to write that letter to Crook and get it to you at the hotel. I have to stop by the hospital to check on a patient, but I can be back in two hours. Will that be all right with you?”
“Of course,” Rayna said as they stopped at the entrance to the Palace.
“Then I’ll see you shortly.”
“All right. Thank you again, Major.” She turned to the door.
“Rayna . . .”
She stopped and looked at him. “Yes.”
“It really wasn’t your fault. Believe that.”
The gentle look in his eyes was almost more than she could bear. “I’ll try,”
she said, then disappeared into the hotel.
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8
By the time Meade’s two hours had expired, Rayna’s bags were packed and she had nothing to do but pace and think. She had considered sending a telegram to her mother, but delivering this dreadful news in that fashion seemed too cruel. Somehow she and Collie would have to find a gentle way to break the news to Raymond, for once she arrived home there would be no way to continue the charade.
Rayna wished desperately that Major Ashford could come back to Rancho Verde with her. Though she told herself it was only because she wanted a doctor on the scene when she told her father the news, she had to admit that there were other reasons as well. In the last two days the major had made himself almost indispensable to her. He had been kind and helpful, but he had also been a much needed distraction. Most of all, he had bolstered her flagging spirits and given her a strong arm to lean on when she had needed it most.
She knew that he was doing all of this only out of sympathy for Skylar, not because he had any particular affection for Rayna. He’d made his opinion of her clear on more than one occasion and he had a knack for making her angry, but she was going to miss him. Despite their constant bickering, she felt as though she was losing a friend.
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At shortly after four he finally arrived with the letter he had promised.
Though he was late, Rayna hadn’t doubted that he would come. She admitted him to her suite, and once he had handed over the letter she invited him to sit, but Meade had a better idea.
“Let me take you out for a light supper,” he suggested. “You won’t have a chance to eat on the train.”
“Thank you, but I’m afraid I couldn’t eat anything right now.”
“But you could use the distraction,” he said wisely. “It’s better than pacing in here or at the train station until time to leave.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
Meade smiled at her. “I’m always right. Haven’t you noticed that?”
He was trying to cajole her into smiling, and it worked. “I’ve noticed that you always think you’re right. There’s a difference.”
“Why don’t we debate this over supper?”
He raised his arm, and Rayna slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.
“Very well. ‘Lead on, Macduff.’”
Meade’s dark eyebrows went up. “You know Shakespeare?”
“I’m educated, remember?”
They adjourned to the Palace dining salon and ordered a light supper that Rayna knew in advance she would barely touch. Meade ordered a bottle of fine Bordeaux wine, and they sat back to await the meal.
“To the return of your sister,” Meade said, raising his glass in a toast.
“Soon,” she added, touching her goblet to his. They drank, and Rayna began playing absently with the stem of her glass. “Major, what would be my chances of getting a letter or package to Skylar?”
“Hmmm. I don’t really know. I can’t imagine that it’s routine for any Apache to receive mail, so I suppose it would depend on how obliging Mr.
Newsome wanted to be.”
Rayna knew that Meade had made a point of explaining Skylar’s situation to the Indian agent. “Perhaps if I sent the package in care of him with a letter begging him to see that Skylar received it?”
Meade couldn’t imagine Rayna begging, but he had no doubt that she would do anything for her sister—even beg, if it came to that. “A letter to Newsome is a good idea. However, I wouldn’t put anything in the package that would tempt him to keep it for himself.”
“I was thinking of sending her writing materials so that we could correspond,” Rayna told him, her spirits sinking again. “But that would mean sending her postage stamps as well. Do you think Newsome would confiscate them?”
Meade reached out and covered Rayna’s hand with his own. “Give it a try and see what happens. You might consider sending Newsome a small amount of money to compensate him for any inconvenience it causes him, since 99
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Skylar won’t be able to leave the reservation to post her letters. And at the same time, I’d mention General Crook and the letters that have been written to everyone from the President to the head of the Indian Bureau. If he thinks there’s a chance that this could come back to haunt him, he might be more inclined to deal fairly with you.”
“I’ll try it,” she said, then leaned forward intently. “Meade, do you think he’d let me see her if I went to the reservation?”
Meade frowned at the thought of her making that hazardous journey.
“Would that be wise, Rayna? Even if you didn’t stay more than a day or two, the trip would take at least two weeks, possibly more. Discounting the danger involved, can you take the risk of missing General Crook’s reply? Someone will have to arrange for Skylar’s return once Crook acts, and your father is in no condition to handle any of this. Not to mention the stress it would put on him knowing that you were making that difficult journey.”
Every one of his arguments was valid. Discouraged, Rayna sank back in her chair, her eyes closed to stave off the threat of tears. “You’re right, of course. I really don’t have any choice but to wait, do I?”
“I’m afraid not.” Meade raised his glass again. “To patience.”
Rayna halfheartedly joined him in the toast, and they fell into a companionable silence that lasted through most of their meal. Meade understood Rayna’s preoccupation, and though he wanted very much to pull her out of her melancholy silence, he also respected her right to be discouraged.
“I think this is what I will miss most about Santa Fe,” he said as he divided the last draft of wine between their glasses.
“What’s that?”
Meade raised his glass. “The wine. I’ve been drinking cheap rotgut for so long that I’d forgotten what a delight a fine wine can be. I’ll miss it when I go home.”
Rayna was amazed to realize that she knew absolutely nothing about Meade Ashford. At some point she had gleaned that he was a bachelor, but that had made no difference to her. For the most part, she had regarded him as an entity whose existence began the moment she met him, and it had never occurred to her that he had a life that went beyond being her liaison with the army. “Where is your home?” she asked, genuinely interested.
“Arizona,” he replied. “Or it will be as soon as I resign my commission in a few months.”
“You’re not a career officer?”
“At one point I had planned to be, but I’m sick to death of it. I can’t wait to get out.”