Why do you ask?”
Rayna turned away and moved to the window. “No reason,” she replied, trying for a cavalier attitude. “I was just surprised that you’d be leaving so soon.”
Meade accepted her answer because he didn’t want to believe that she might have been disappointed that he had planned to leave without seeing her again. “Well, I am, and it’s to your benefit. I know the route to Fort Apache, and I’m offering to act as your guide. What do you say?”
Considering the circumstances, Rayna found it difficult to believe that he’d made the offer, but she knew better than to question it. Though she had doubts about how much help this tenderfoot would be to her on the trail, at least he knew how to get her to where she was going. If worse came to worst, she could take care of him. “Very well, I accept your generous offer.”
He paused a moment. “You do?”
“Yes.”
“No argument? No protestations that you can get along without my help?”
“But I do need your help. I don’t know the route to Fort Apache and you do. You are known to me, and since you’re going to that area anyway, you’ll be far less expensive than a hired guide.”
Meade bit the inside of his lip to keep from smiling. “Perfectly logical, reasonable, and economical,” he decreed.
“My thinking exactly.”
He sighed. “Very well. We’ll leave day after tomorrow. Are you staying at the Palace again?” When she answered in the affirmative, he said, “I’ll call for you at eight o’clock on Friday morning.”
“I’ll be ready.”
“Good.”
Their business concluded, there didn’t seem to be anything else to say but a polite round of good-byes. Even after they had been said, though, neither of them moved. They looked at each other for a moment; then Rayna finally put an end to the tension by moving to the door.
“Rayna?”
She stopped and turned. “Yes?”
“You had already made up your mind to go to Fort Apache when you got here. Why did you bother coming to me at all?”
A flush of humiliation washed through her. Did he really have to ask? “I thought you might be interested in knowing what had transpired. What other reason could I have had?”
“None, I suppose,” he replied, sorry he’d asked the question.
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A thought occurred to Rayna and she frowned. “I had no idea you were leaving Friday, if that’s what you’re thinking. I didn’t come here to rope you into taking me—”
“No, no,” he assured her hastily. “That thought hadn’t crossed my mind.”
“Well, good.” She edged toward the door again. “Good day, Meade. I’ll see you on Friday.”
“Yes.”
She turned and grasped the door handle, then stopped. Without looking at him, she asked softly, “Would you really have left New Mexico without—”
Seeing me again, she wanted to say, but she quickly replaced that phrase with
“inquiring about Skylar?”
Meade wasn’t fooled by the substitution, but he didn’t think it was wise to admit how many times he’d talked himself out of the sentimental notion of stopping at Rancho Verde on his way home. “I had planned to write your father once I reached Eagle Creek.”
Well, that certainly made his feelings—or lack thereof—plain enough.
She said good day again without looking at him and left.
Sun Hawk began covering their tracks not long after they cleared the camp, but except for a few brief pauses to allow Skylar to catch her breath, they never stopped moving, climbing higher into the mountains. At daybreak they stopped at a trickling mountain spring, and Skylar collapsed beside it to drink greedily. Sun Hawk knelt at her side but waited until she had drunk her fill before cupping his hand in the water.
It was the first chance they’d had to talk, but only one question came to Skylar’s mind once she’d quenched her intense thirst. “Do you know this country?” she asked.
Sun Hawk didn’t look at her. “Not as well as some, but I know it. Before the whites came, my people were free to hunt wherever we wanted. I have been in these mountains.”
“Good.”
“Rest. Don’t talk,” he instructed. “We must move on soon.” He stood up, and Skylar grabbed his hand.
“Where are you going?”
Sun Hawk looked down and saw the panic in her eyes. It was only to be expected, he supposed. “You need food, and I must scout the area. You will be safe here for a little while.”
He had to do what was best for both of them, and Skylar reluctantly released his hand. He studied her for a moment, then reached for the revolver strapped to his waist. He extended it to her, and their eyes held as they remembered the last gift he had given her.
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Skylar’s hand was trembling as she took the gun. Sun Hawk turned away and jumped lightly across the stream.
“Why did you do it?” The question was out before she even realized she was going to ask it.
Sun Hawk stopped and looked at her. “The soldiers would have killed you.”
“Why should that matter to you?”
His handsome face hardened into a scowl. “You ask too many questions, even for a woman. It is done. We cannot turn back now.” He spun away from her and a moment later disappeared into the rocks above.
At precisely eight o’clock Meade arrived at the Palace Hotel and found Rayna waiting for him in the lobby with a single carpetbag at her feet. At least she hadn’t overpacked for the trip. If nothing else, he could count on her to be practical once they left civilization behind. Probably.
He took off his broad-brimmed hat as he approached her, and realized that she was looking at him strangely. Knowing that spending the next few days with her was going to be sheer hell, it seemed hypocritical to wish her a good morning, so instead he questioned her odd look. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She waved her hand up and down, gesturing to his clothing.
“It’s just a shock to see you out of uniform, and that’s not what I would have expected you to wear.”
Meade frowned down at his serviceable black trousers, casual white shirt, and open vest. “What’s wrong with the way I’m dressed?”
“Not a thing.”
“What were you expecting? A cutaway and bowler?”
Rayna chuckled. “Actually, yes.”
Meade snatched up her carpetbag. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I sent them on ahead last week with the rest of my personal belongings. Shall we go? I have a carriage waiting.”
She dutifully took her place beside him. The doorman took the bag and placed it in the boot while Meade handed Rayna into the carriage. Once they were settled, she shot him a sidelong glance. “Do you really have a cutaway and bowler?”
Meade wanted to order her not to look at him with that delectable teasing smile, but instead he looked straight ahead and replaced his hat. “No, I don’t.
Disappointed?”
“Disillusioned,” she countered. “Although I must confess that I do prefer your cavalry hat to a stuffy bowler.”
“So do I,” he said, tugging on the downturned brim in front. “I’ve spent several years training it to my head, and it’s the only piece of military equip-ment I’ve ever grown attached to.”
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“That’s understandable. It makes you look quite handsome.”
“Thank you.” Meade was uncomfortable with the compliment, but he felt obligated to give one in return. “You look quite . . . nice yourself today.