T
he time following their return to Santa Fe was filled with a flurry of visitors and tourists. Apparently, just as Major Clarkson had hoped, the rich still desired diversions from their daily jobs and the ever depressing news of the economy.
Rainy sat in a meeting for the couriers and their drivers. Clarkson wanted to make certain each person was advised as to the plans for the scaled-back Detour services, and so he had arranged meetings where the supervisors would be able to convey the important details of their changes in business.
Rainy gave only halfhearted attention to one of the newer super visors, Mrs. Lehman, as she addressed the workers. “We have several fixed routes that we will offer on a regular basis. Some of the specialty trips we offered in the past can still be had on a person-by-person basis. These customized trips will be expensive, however, as our costs are up quite drastically. There are those of you who have proven to be much requested as couriers and drivers, and of course we will continue to accommodate those requests whenever possible.”
Rainy sighed and shifted uncomfortably. She caught Sonny’s sympathetic gaze from across the room and looked away quickly. Sonny had attempted to discuss the family’s move to Scotland several times, but Rainy refused to hear him out. The idea still disturbed her in ways she couldn’t explain. Before he could get a word in, she’d told him that it was better to leave it in the past—that she was trying hard not to hold on to her anger and frustration. She’d even told him that he was entitled to do whatever he pleased with his life— yet everything she said seemed to frustrate him further.
“The Taos trip, of course, will continue to be offered,” Mrs. Lehman announced. “The costs are minimal and the three days offer a well-rounded tour for most tastes. It has proven to be our most popular tour by far, and so to show that we sympathize with the American worker, we’ve lowered the price by ten dollars. Instead of sixty-five dollars, we’ll be charging fifty-five dollars for the three-day tour and only thirty-five dollars for the two-day tour.”
The mention of the Taos tour caused Rainy’s mind to drift again—this time it went to Phillip Vance and his continued absence. He should have been back by now, but Rainy had heard nothing. She had only received one short letter since he left for Los Angeles.
In it Phillip had maintained an ardent passion for Rainy and the fervent desire that she join him in California. Rainy never gave serious thought to the arrangement, although she did check the train schedule to Los Angeles on more than one occasion. But after that brief note in the early days of his absence, there had been no other communication. A month came and went and still there was no sign of Phillip, and Rainy had no desire to look up Jennetta Blythe to ask where her brother might be. Perhaps this was God’s way of keeping Rainy from a painfully wrong decision.
Of course, the only real decision Rainy had made in her very real battle of the wills was to let go of the matter and let God take control. She still earnestly desired a husband and family and still kept her gaze on Duncan and Phillip both as potential mates; however, she wasn’t feeling the same frantic desire that had haunted her not so long ago. It was difficult to trust that God had everything under control. She supposed it was more difficult for her than most because of what had happened at the university. Why would a just and fair God allow her to be blamed for things that weren’t her fault? God loved her and cared about her—but He didn’t seem to love and care
enough
about her to keep bad things from happening to her.
Even as she’d discussed the situation with her father, Rainy had known an odd kind of resolve. Her father said matter-of-factly that a person wasn’t entitled to know why God worked things in a certain manner— that God has His ways and they are so far removed from man that they make little sense. He called it the “foolishness of God” and showed her verses of Scripture that backed up his reasoning.
Rainy could accept that God’s ways were often confusing and indiscernible, but she still didn’t understand why He’d allow her to lose the one thing that 5mattered most. She had held a wonderful position with the university. She was to have been awarded a special grant from the college to study the Hopi. She would have eventually been asked to teach a class or two and, in time, might have become a professor. It wasn’t fair that she should have to lose all of that.
Then again, nothing seemed fair at the moment.
Her family was leaving for Scotland. By autumn, they would be heading for the East Coast by train. From there they would take a ship to England and then take another train to Edinburgh. So it was up to her; she could either give up her driving desire to see her name cleared and go to Scotland with her family, or she could stay here in her beloved Southwest and live alone. Resignation left a bitter taste in her mouth.
“We will also offer an overnight trip,” Mrs. Lehman said in a tone that seemed a bit elevated. Rainy looked up to find the woman staring directly at her.
Straightening in her seat, Rainy forced her mind to stay focused. There would be adequate time to figure out what was to be done in regard to her reputation and future.
“The overnight tour will include an itinerary that takes the dudes to the Puye Cliff Dwellings and the Santa Clara Indian Pueblo. The fare of fifteen dollars will cover three meals and one overnight stay with private bath. And, of course, the transportation itself is covered. Are there any questions?”
One young woman raised her hand and Mrs. Lehman quickly acknowledged her.
“Will the tours continue to start here in Santa Fe at La Fonda?”
“Yes, the hotel will remain the central starting point. The tours will start promptly at nine each morning. This is a convenient hour for guests coming in from the station at Lamy. The only exception will be the overnight trip, which will also leave from La Fonda but will delay until 10:30 A.M. Other questions?”
No one offered any comment, so Mrs. Lehman dismissed the group and Rainy left the room as quickly as she could. With her heels click-clacking on the stone floor of the hotel, she made her way outside. The only real interest she had was to distance herself from her friends and Sonny. She wanted to be alone, as she had so many times recently. She knew her personality seemed altered as she withdrew and sought solitude, but she couldn’t help it.
I’m confused, Lord. I thought I would feel better once I
got back to work and into the swing of things, but I don’t.
Phillip hasn’t written, Duncan has been completely absent,
Sonny plans to go away, and everything is changing. I want
my peaceful life back—the life I had before the university incident.
I need direction for my life, but I seem to be walking in
circles
.
She strolled along the Plaza walk, noting that at the Palace of the Governors the Indians were beginning to pack up their wares. Every day this faithful collection of natives brought handmade jewelry and baskets to sell. They would gather here under the protection of this ancient porch and put out their wares for the tourists to purchase. Then every day, like clockwork, the evening hour would come upon them and they would gather their things and go home.
Rainy looked at her watch and realized the dinner hour was upon them. The meeting with her co-workers had taken most of the afternoon. Funny, but Rainy could barely remember anything they’d discussed.
Turning from the preoccupied Indians, Rainy glanced up again and caught sight of Duncan. He was sitting on the opposite side of the Plaza and seemed to be watching her. Not knowing what else to do, Rainy offered a little wave. She hadn’t spoken to Duncan since their falling-out. She wondered if he still worried about her guilt or innocence regarding the Indian artifacts.
She waited as he got up and made his way across the Plaza to her. A trembling went through Rainy as he offered her a smile. Apparently he wasn’t mad at her. Rainy took his smile as her cue and smiled in return.
“I thought maybe you weren’t speaking to me after the way I acted when we were last together,” she offered by way of apology. “I regret that I treated you so poorly.”
“I’m the one who owes you an apology,” Duncan replied. “I’d like to take you to dinner to make up for it.”
Rainy nodded, trying hard not to show her surprise. “I’d like that very much. Where shall we go?”
“If you don’t mind a bit of a walk, I know a marvelous place over on Alameda. It just opened up and is run by a Frenchman.”
“Sounds wonderful, and I don’t mind the walk at all,” Rainy assured him.
They headed off in the direction of Alameda Street, and it was Duncan who once again picked up the conversation. “How have you been?”
His voice was melodic, like liquid pouring over stones. “I’ve been . . . well . . .” She didn’t want to lie to him, but how could she explain? “I suppose the best I can say is that my life is in turmoil. I’ve been trying to take your advice and give it over to God, but at times that’s not as easy as it sounds.”
Duncan chuckled. It wasn’t exactly the response Rainy had expected. “You don’t have to tell me. I’m terrible at taking my own advice. It’s hard for me to place my burdens at the feet of God and leave them there.”
“It’s a relief to hear someone else feels that way,” Rainy declared. “Sometimes I feel that I must be God’s biggest disappointment. I sat in church last week listening to the pastor teach on all things being possible with God, and not moments after leaving I once again felt that things seemed impossible.”
Duncan nodded. “Indeed. I can relate very well, but I always rest in the fact that no matter how many times I fail, God never will. And He’ll forgive my mistrust and help me to start over. He desires only that we draw near to Him—to love Him and yield our lives to Him.”
“And that’s what I want most of all,” Rainy admitted. “I don’t want my own way. . . . Not really. There are things I hope for—long for—but I won’t demand them of God anymore.”
“Like a husband?”
Rainy felt embarrassed by the question and looked away. “Yes,” she whispered.
Duncan reached out and took hold of her arm.
“You know, my father, being the preacher that he is, once gave the example of a man whose boat was capsized in a storm on the ocean. The man can’t swim, but as fortune would have it, he finds himself next to a rusty old buoy. He clings to that buoy out in the middle of a stormy sea, praying and pleading that God will rescue him. He grows more weary by the minute, but still he holds on to that buoy for fear of drowning.
Then, much to the man’s surprise and answered prayer, a rescue boat draws up alongside and a sailor reaches out a line to rescue the man.”
Rainy stopped walking and turned to look at Duncan. He continued. “The sailor throws out the rope over and over, but the man won’t let go of the buoy.
It’s almost as if the meager safety he has as he clutches the buoy is better than the hope of what safety he might have in the ship. The sailor pleads with the man to let go of the buoy and be rescued, but the man’s fears refuse to let him trust. The storm worsens and the boat moves away to safety, leaving the man to drown.”
“How awful,” Rainy said, forgetting momentarily that it was just a story.
“Yes, but my father said we’re the same way with God. He’s offering us safety and rescue and we hold on to what we have in front of us—believing that it will somehow save us instead of God.”
The silence engulfed them momentarily, and then Rainy nodded slowly. She was just like that man. She was clinging with her own strength to that which she thought would be beneficial—her pride, her self-reliance. She looked to Duncan. “Yes. Yes, we are very much like that. I believe God sent you to me for the very purpose of sharing this story. I can’t begin to explain it, but I almost feel as if a veil has been lifted from my eyes. I thought all along that I was clinging to God, but I have been clinging to earthly things, self-centered things, the wrong things.”
“We all make that mistake from time to time. Some things look very much like they’ve been divinely provided, when in fact they are offering only a temporary solution. God has a complete plan, and often we settle for only part of it.”
They had reached the little restaurant by this time, so Duncan ushered her inside and waited until after they’d been seated at a highly polished walnut table before commenting further.
“I’m glad I could be of help. Glad, too, that you agreed to have dinner with me. I remember what you said about hiding behind Sonny—”
“Oh, please don’t hold those words against me,” Rainy interrupted. “They were so awful and spoken more out of my own misery than any truth.”
“I’m not holding them against you. I’m thanking you for them,” Duncan said, his voice low and his gaze intense. “I do have reason to care that has nothing to do with Sonny.”
The words thrilled her heart and Rainy lost herself in his gaze. She longed to reach out and touch his wavy black hair, to run her fingers along his jawline. A slight sigh escaped her and she knew by the expression on Duncan’s face that he somehow understood.
“Have you decided on what you’d like for dinner?” the waiter asked.
Rainy felt enormous frustration at the interruption. She looked away. “Why don’t you order for us both,” she murmured to Duncan.
He ordered veal Bourguignonne and stuffed mushrooms after marveling at the enticing selection and sharing small talk with the waiter. Rainy listened to the conversation, trying hard not to make Duncan’s declaration into something more than he intended.
“I really think you’ll enjoy the food here,” Duncan said as the waiter left them.
“I take it you’ve eaten here before?” Rainy questioned.
“Yes. I’ve come here twice now. I had the lamb on one occasion and chicken Maciel on the other. Both were absolute perfection.”
Rainy picked up the linen napkin and noticed the fine silver that lined her plate. Harvey standards to be sure, she thought. She glanced around her, finding that the waiter had placed them in a most private part of the dining room. Only a few other tables were occupied, and those were at the other end of the room— well away from where she sat with Duncan. Perhaps the waiter thought them to be young lovers who were courting.