[Desert Roses 03] - Beneath A Harvest Sky (27 page)

They sat in silence for several minutes. Rainy drew a deep breath as she sat back against the park bench, feeling foolish for breaking down and crying.
Duncan
must think me a real ninny. He’s probably sitting there right
now trying to figure out a way to leave gracefully
.

Then, as if to prove her wrong, Duncan asked, “What did you mean that day when you asked why more men couldn’t be like me?”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

R
ainy was taken aback by Duncan’s question. “What?”

Duncan grinned. “You heard me. Why did you make that statement about wishing more men were like me? It was the night we were in Taos and Phillip Vance came into the hotel with a couple of floozies hanging all over him.”

“I remember.” Rainy had already spilled the truth about her deepest, darkest secret. Why not tell him the real reason for her words? “I suppose . . . well . . . because you’ve always been kind to me. Even when you hardly knew me. In fact, I see you being kind to everyone.”

“What do you mean by ‘kind’?”

Rainy stretched her legs out in front of her. “Do you mind if we walk while we talk? I’m weary from sitting.”

Duncan nodded and followed her as she got to her feet. Rainy crossed the street and walked past the Palace of the Governors and on up to Washington Street. The summer skies overhead were fading in the twilight. The air held a definite flavor of red chilies and other spices. Rainy felt the gnawing in her stomach and wished she’d taken time to eat supper.

“You’re a kind and gentle man, Duncan. I saw that right from the start. When I brought my first group of tourists to see the museum you were very attentive and . . . kind.” She smiled. “There’s really no other word for it.”

“You pointed out the museum’s mistake on the label of an artifact, as I recall,” he said with a smirk.

“Yes, but you handled it very graciously. You didn’t just dismiss me because I was female or because your pride wouldn’t allow you to believe the museum capable of mistakes. You listened to me, observed the item, and agreed to further research the matter. I appreciated that. It was prideful of me to point that error out in the middle of a group of dudes, but you handled it with great ease and . . .”

“And kindness?” he asked.

Rainy nodded and after walking three blocks north on Washington, she crossed the street to head back to the Plaza. She didn’t want to get too far away from the safety of her room at the boardinghouse. Should the situation with Duncan prove to become uncomfortable, she wanted the option to flee. As childish as that sounded, she simply couldn’t bear to deal with another embarrassing or painful encounter. Hopefully Duncan would understand her situation and keep his distance.

“You’ve been kind in many ways over the years. I remember the extra care you gave the tour groups. I remember once when I had dropped a stack of boxed lunches, you appeared out of nowhere and helped me pick them up—then you carried them for me. We hardly even knew each other except for the museum and tours.”

“I remember that,” Duncan said thoughtfully. “I never thought of it as an act of kindness—but merely a gentleman’s response to a lady in trouble.”

They were back to the Plaza and their pace had slowed considerably. Rainy paused in the shadows of a shop portico. “You are a kind man in so many ways, Duncan Hartford. You rescued me at dinner when Chester was making his little innuendos about the stolen relics, and you were kind just now to offer me a friendly shoulder to cry on.” She met his gaze and lost herself for a moment in the depths of his brown eyes.

She longed to reach up and touch his cheek, to put her hands in his hair, to hold him close.

Duncan appeared just as captivated. He turned to speak, but he remained silent, almost as if understanding her feelings—her need.

Rainy felt the skin on her arms tingle as Duncan closed the inches between them. “Would you like me to be kind to you right now?” he murmured, gently reaching out to touch her arms and then her shoulders.

Rainy could bear her longing no more. She reached up to touch his hair, just as she’d wanted to do. “Oh, yes, Duncan,” she breathed. “Be kind to me.”

Duncan’s mouth came down on hers in a passionate kiss that took Rainy’s breath away. She wrapped her arms around him tightly, fearful that if she didn’t, she might very well melt right into the ground. Duncan made her feel at peace—and at the same time he had her heart racing. He seemed to reach inside her and pull out all the bits of doubt and hopelessness.

She felt her strength return as his kiss deepened. Now there was no doubt in her mind—the infatuation, the silly schoolgirl crush . . . had turned into something much more persuasive. Dared she call it love?

Duncan pulled away, his hands lingering on her face. Rainy opened her eyes to find the questioning look in his expression. She wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. Surely he couldn’t doubt how she felt about him. Scotland seemed a remote possibility now.

“I’m sure sorry to interrupt this, ah, moment,” Sonny said. He cleared his throat nervously. Duncan let go of Rainy rather quickly and stepped away while Rainy met her brother’s amused look.

“What’s the matter?” she questioned.

“I just got a bit of news and I knew you’d want to know about it right away. We’ve been booked to do a one-way tour to the Grand Canyon. We’re to leave tomorrow morning, take a customized route through the reservations so that the dudes can see the Hopi Snake Dance, then head down to Flagstaff and finally over to Williams, where they’ll take the train to the canyon.”

Rainy nodded, but Duncan seemed confused. “I thought they’d cancelled all the longer drives.”

“Anything can be bought for a price,” Rainy replied. “You know how people are. Major Clarkson said so long as the dudes were willing to pay, we’d take them where they wanted to go. We just don’t openly advertise the longer trips.” She looked at him strangely. “Didn’t they tell you this in the drivers’ meeting?”

“I guess I forgot,” Duncan replied. “How long will you be gone, Sonny?”

“We leave tomorrow morning, and it will take us five days to get to Williams. But there’s something else to this. Something Rainy needs to know.” His expression grew sympathetic. “Jennetta Blythe is the one who set up the tour. She wants to take some friends on the ultimate Wild West trip. She’s also bringing Chester and Bethel along.”

Rainy felt the wind go out of her. She swallowed hard and shook her head. “No. I won’t do it. I’ll go talk to Mrs. Lehman right now, but I will not lead that tour group.”

“Don’t bother. I’ve already argued the point. She said we were specifically requested and the clients are willing to pay double the usual price for us. They would take no substitutes, and Mrs. Lehman and Major Clarkson said it was of the utmost importance that we please the customer.”

“Well, I’ll resign my position now instead of waiting until the end of the month,” Rainy said in anger.

“I’m not traveling another mile with that collection of ninnies.”

Duncan reached out and touched her arm. “You might get the answers you’re looking for—especially if Chester is on the trip.”

“What are you talking about?” Sonny questioned.

Duncan held her gaze, and Rainy realized he was absolutely right. She might very well uncover the clues to her vindication. It was a long shot—none of the other trips had borne fruit—but it was always possible. She shrugged in defeat and sighed.

Rainy turned to Sonny. “He knows about the past. I told him about the university and how I have always believed Chester had something to do with what happened.”

“So now you figure going on this trip is somehow going to give you the answers?” Sonny looked first to Rainy and then to Duncan. “Why now?”

Duncan shrugged. “I’m just suggesting it might be beneficial. It might offer her nothing but frustration too.”

Rainy felt trapped, and yet a part of her was eager to see if this trip would somehow be different. Maybe Duncan’s intuition was God-given. Maybe it was a sign that she would be able to learn the truth once and for all. Defeated, she said, “I guess there’s no real choice but to go.”

Sonny gave her an apologetic smile. “I tried, sis.

Really I did.”

Rainy knew he spoke the truth. “I’ll be all right.

After all, you’ll be there to help me.” Her stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone to hear. “Right now, I think I’d do well to get some supper. I’m famished.”

“I haven’t eaten either,” Sonny admitted, then looked to Duncan. “Want to join us?”

“No, I have some business to take care of,” Duncan murmured. He let go of Rainy and touched his hand to his hat. “I’ll catch up with both of you when you get back from the tour.”

————

Duncan watched Rainy and her brother walk past La Fonda and disappear down the street before trying to decide what to do next. He wanted very much to locate Phillip and his sister and tell them about his museum artifacts. The timing was critical. If they were involved, perhaps his offer of artifacts would keep them from stealing anything on the Grand Canyon trip and Rainy wouldn’t look so bad.

Going in to the hotel registration desk, Duncan asked for Phillip Vance’s room number. He knew Phillip always stayed at La Fonda when in town. He’d checked out that much. He wasn’t sure why, however.

With Jennetta situated not far from the Plaza and the main thrust of activities, he couldn’t imagine why she would send her brother to a hotel.

Bounding up the stairs, Duncan tried to think how he might approach Phillip. He didn’t want to appear too eager. After all, if they weren’t guilty of stealing, they might well believe him to be out of his head and report him to the police. The last thing Duncan needed was that kind of interference. Worse still, they might tell their friends what had happened and ruin the entire investigation.

He paused outside the door, whispered a prayer, then knocked loudly. He could only hope that Phillip was inside. It wasn’t quite the hour for parties to begin their entertainment. To his relief, he heard voices coming from the other side of the door. In a moment, Phillip Vance opened the door. He stood there wearing a red satin smoking jacket, a cigarette in hand.

“Oh, hello . . . Mr. . . . Hartson?” Phillip said hesitantly.

“Hartford. I wondered if you had a moment to talk to me.”

“Well, my sister is here,” Phillip began, “but I’m sure she won’t mind. We’re making an early evening of it because she’s heading to the Grand Canyon tomorrow.”

Duncan nodded. “Yes, I’d heard that. What I have to say won’t take long, and I’d be happy to share the information with your sister as well.”

Phillip nodded. “Then please come in.”

Duncan entered the lion’s den—at least that’s what it felt like to him. He tried to appear as though this were something he did on an everyday basis. Jennetta Blythe slinked into view. She was dressed in a rather dowdy manner, just as she’d been the first time Duncan had met her. Her hair had recently been cut and seemed not to have adjusted well to the trim. She looked nothing like the socialite he’d seen before.

“I’m glad I could find you both,” Duncan said, smiling. “I must say, however, I thought it rather odd that Phillip would have a suite here at the hotel while you live right in town, Mrs. Blythe.”

Jennetta seemed indifferent to his observation.

“My home is my sanctuary where I create. I can’t have a lot of people running about. It would cause problems for the spirits. They would be disturbed,” she said matter-of-factly.

“The spirits?”

Phillip chuckled. “Jennetta fancies her house is haunted.”

“It
is
haunted, and the spirits help me to write. I have absolutely no one in unless I’m convinced the spirits would approve. Often they do approve, but not for overnight—I never have guests sleep over. I know the spirits would find that much too disruptive.”

Duncan nodded as if he’d heard this before.

“So what brings you here, Mr. Hartford?”

Duncan coughed, trying to cover his sudden case of nerves. “Well, the truth is, I remember Mrs. Blythe purchasing some Indian trinkets and thought perhaps you were both connoisseurs of the Indian culture and their artwork.”

“I suppose we are,” Phillip replied. “I, of course, first came here to better my understanding of the American West. I wanted to utilize it for my movies.

Jennetta came here to write. You do know that Santa Fe is a writer’s community, don’t you?”

Duncan nodded. “I’m ver y familiar with that aspect of this town. I also know it to have a strong community of painters. The stories surrounding the Cinco Pintores are notorious.”

Jennetta gave a scoffing laugh. “The Five Painters, indeed. Writers are much more of an influence here.

Painters go to Taos—at least painters of any real repute. My dear friend Mary Austin lives on the Camino del Monte Sol. She’s been published many times.

She’s even working right now on a book that deals with the Indians and some of their ‘trinkets,’ as you called them. There are far more writers than you would guess. We’re a quiet bunch overall and prefer not to be disturbed.”

“I stand corrected,” Duncan said, smiling. “I do recall several years ago that Willa Cather came to the museum for information on the Archbishop of Santa Fe. Seems she was putting together a fiction book.”