“Hellfire, Collie, where are my shirts?” he snapped, throwing open the armoire. “And get me a carpetbag.”
“I will not! I’m not going to let you kill yourself!”
“Damn it! Tell me what’s going on!” Rayna roared, startling both her parents.
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Collie looked at her daughter. “Skylar isn’t on the Mescalero reservation any longer.”
Rayna knew that what should have been good news actually wasn’t.
“Where is she?”
“The goddam Indian Bureau closed the reservation and is sending the Mescaleros to the Rio Alto agency in Arizona,” Raymond answered.
“Oh, my God,” Rayna muttered, her heart skipping a full beat. “When?
When is she going?”
Collie wrung her hands together. “She’s already gone. Her letter was posted a week ago, the day after she left the reservation.” She dug into the pocket of her skirt and handed a thick packet to her. “Skylar wrote letters to us all.”
Rayna took the packet of letters gingerly, as though it was something precious to be treasured and handled with the greatest care. As, of course, it was.
“Is she well?”
“Yes,” her mother replied. “The work of daily living is very hard, but she is surviving. Consayka and Gatana have taken her under their wing.”
That wasn’t at all unexpected. As much as Rayna wanted to devour Skylar’s letter, there was a more important consideration now that she had the facts.
Her father was still tearing through his wardrobe and had already tossed his best suit carelessly onto the bed. “Papa, you can’t go to Santa Fe.”
“Oh, but I can and will, missy,” he argued. “I’m going to get my little princess back if it’s the last thing I do in this world.”
Collie moved to him. “If you go to Santa Fe, that’s exactly what it will be.”
She grabbed his arm and looked up at him imploringly. “Raymond, please.
General Whitlock has already said there’s nothing he can do.”
“Well, maybe I can change his mind. Crook certainly isn’t helping us. It’s been six weeks, and we’ve written him three letters in that time!” He shook off Collie’s hand. “I’m sick and tired of waiting around here like a crippled old maid. I’m going to see Whitlock, and there’s not a damned thing you can say to change my mind. Now, where the hell is that carpetbag?”
As Rayna and Collie exchanged helpless looks, Raymond charged across the room to his wife’s armoire. He snatched the bag from the floor, but as he straightened and whirled around, the room began spinning faster than he did.
A gray film blurred his vision, a prickle of pain spread through his chest, and before he fully understood what was happening to him, his wife and daughter were flanking him, leading him to the bed. He sat heavily, his breath coming in heavy pants.
“Dam . . . nation,” he gasped as Collie gently guided him back onto the pillows. Rayna lifted his feet and pulled a coverlet over his legs. “Hang . . . it all, I’m not . . . cold,” he groused.
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“Be quiet,” Collie said sternly, torn between anger and fear. “Just rest. This will pass. Please, God, let it pass.”
“Papa, you have to take care of yourself.” Rayna slipped around the bed and sat next to him.
“But Skylar—”
She took his hand. “I’ll handle it,” she vowed solemnly. “I’ll go to Whitlock again and get down on my knees and beg if I have to, but I will find a way to get Skylar back.”
Raymond closed his eyes tightly, and the tears that pooled in the corners nearly broke Rayna’s heart. “My poor princess,” he muttered, his strength fading to nothingness. “She’s so far away.”
“But not for long, Papa,” Rayna promised. She patted his hand and let it go, then hurried out of the room and down the gallery to her own. The storm had arrived, and sheets of rain were washing through the courtyard like waves pounding onto a beach, but Rayna ignored the downpour.
Hastily she removed her own carpetbag from the wardrobe and began selecting clothes.
Whitlock wouldn’t be able—or willing—to help her. She already knew that, but she would try for her father’s sake. It was the first and most logical step to take. And when that failed . . .
A plan had already begun forming in Rayna’s mind. It was only a vague shape with rough edges, but it was a plan nonetheless. It was dangerous. It was probably even foolhardy. But if no one in the United States Army would help her, she had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.
Though she ached to read Skylar’s letter, she packed first and then washed away the trail dirt she had accumulated that morning. By the time her mother came looking for her, Rayna was dressed for travel and the storm was beginning to abate.
“How is he?” she asked as Collie came into her bedchamber.
“Sleeping.”
“Is he in pain?”
Collie swallowed hard. “He says not, but I don’t know that I believe him.”
Rayna went to her, and they hugged each other tightly. “It will be all right, Mother. I’ll talk to Whitlock and make him see reason.”
“And if you fail?”
Rayna released her and stepped away. This was going to be the hardest part. “Mother, if Whitlock won’t do anything . . . I’ll go to Arizona and find Crook myself.”
Collie was stunned. And frightened. “Rayna, that’s too dangerous. You can’t make a trip like that alone,” she said desperately.
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“I don’t care!” Rayna retorted as her temper flared again. “I’m sick to death of being helpless, and by God if Crook won’t do anything, I’ll snatch Skylar away from that damned reservation myself!”
Flanked by two soldiers, with four more stationed around the perimeter of the command tent, Skylar stood in front of Captain Haggarty’s desk fighting back hysterical laughter that had nothing to do with humor. She was frustrated and terrified because no one believed her story. She had killed a soldier, and Haggarty wasn’t the least bit interested in hearing the truth. In his mind, he had captured a dangerous renegade, and as near as Skylar could tell, his only concern was whether or not he would eventually be able to persuade his superiors to hang a woman.
The soldiers had been at this for hours, dragging her in front of Haggarty for questioning, then shackling her to a wagon outside while the captain thought up new questions. The one he had just asked her—why she had ambushed Talbot—was an old one, though.
“I have told you again and again, Captain, I did not ambush him. He attacked me and dragged me into the rocks, where he made it clear that he intended to rape me. My only thought was to keep him at bay until I could escape, but he lunged at me and fell on the knife!”
“That’s not the story Private Norris tells,” Haggarty replied. “According to him, you enticed Talbot away from his post and attacked him without provocation.”
“Norris is lying!”
“He is a valued member of the United States Army,” the captain said arrogantly.
Skylar shook her head. “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s lying to protect the reputation of his friend—and to save his own skin. Talbot attacked me, and Norris did nothing to prevent it.”
“So you’ve said before,” Haggarty replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Tell me, where did you get the knife you used on Talbot?”
This was a new question, but it was one Skylar didn’t want to answer.