[Desert Roses 03] - Beneath A Harvest Sky by Tracie Peterson

him.
    This caused both Sonny and Duncan to drop the map. Duncan knew, from what she and Sonny had both shared, that nights in Albuquerque were always devoted to family. From the look on Sonny’s face, Rainy was acting completely out of character.
    “Rainy, what about Mom and Dad?” Sonny asked.
    “They’ll understand. Take Duncan home with you.
    Give them my excuses.”
    Sonny looked to Duncan and shook his head. “I think it’s time to get on the road. You want to drive?” he asked.
    Duncan nodded, although he really didn’t feel like taking on the chore. At least it might help to keep his mind occupied. It might—but he doubted it.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    I’ ve really enjoyed our evening together,” Phillip said as he strolled with Rainy.
    “I have too,” Rainy admitted. She’d known nothing but his complete attention and generosity this evening. Phillip’s genuine kindness and interest in her life and the things around her proved him to be a man of integrity and consideration. Her only real frustration was that she still knew so very little about Phillip Vance, the man. He was openly delighted to talk about his life as an actor, but when it came to anything more personal, he seemed to easily avoid her questions.
    “I must say, I’ve learned a great deal about your Indian friends. I think it marvelous that you know so much about them. You’d be a tremendous asset to the movie studio. You really should give it some thought.”
    “Move to California? But I don’t know anyone there,” Rainy said without thinking.
    “You would know me,” Phillip said, stopping to take hold of her hand. “And by then, well . . . who can say?”
    Rainy felt a surge of frustration. These were hardly the kinds of words she wanted to hear. She wanted to know if Phillip had any real interest in deepening their relationship, of course, but she wanted to know much more. Rainy needed to know if he was like-minded—if he honored the truth, honored God. She’d always respected her mother’s admonition to not get involved with nonbelievers. Rainy had worked hard, in fact, to avoid such heartaches. It was definitely something that had allowed her to keep Chester Driscoll at arm’s length.
    Overhead the night skies twinkled with diamond-like stars. The moon, a lazy crescent, offered little light. Rainy wanted so much to know Phillip Vance’s true self, yet he never seemed able to tell her much more than who he was as an actor or public figure.
    Even his interests and concern about the Hopi were more related to his work than to his personality—at least that was how it seemed at times.
    “Isn’t it marvelous how God so intricately created the universe—so beautiful . . . so perfect?” Rainy said, hoping perhaps this line of questioning would give Phillip cause to respond and share his heart. She continued gazing into the night sky, waiting for his response.
    After a moment he replied, “It’s beautiful here, to be sure.”
    Rainy waited for him to say something more, but he seemed completely content to remain silently at her side. Frustration coursed through her veins. “Phillip, you’ve really said very little about yourself. I feel like I know all about Phillip Vance the actor, but what of your personal life? What did you do with yourself before getting into the movie business?” she asked, suddenly breaking the intimacy of the moment. She pulled away and continued their stroll back to the Alvarado Hotel.
    Phillip quickly followed. “There really isn’t much to tell. I was born and raised in New York. I went to school and developed an interest in movies from the first time I viewed a silent picture.” He smiled down at her as he again claimed her arm. “I knew then that acting was for me.”
    “But surely you had other plans and dreams as a child.”
    Phillip grew momentarily thoughtful. “My mother took me to my first play when I was only five. I regularly attended after that—whenever she was to attend.
    My father