A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  Much better.

  With a tug on his pinstripe vest, he went back to his chair.

  The tedious reports where he checked the work of the accounting department weren’t his favorite task, but alas, it fell to him. His father had poured his whole life into Watkins Enterprises, and one day Ray hoped to be able to add to it. He’d have to earn his way, that’s for sure. Dad hadn’t created it overnight—a fact Ray was reminded of often. It was a privilege to be able to follow in his father’s footsteps.

  A few years ago, that hadn’t been his opinion, but God had changed him. Each day was a gift now. A chance to live out his favorite verse in Colossians. The words tumbled through his mind, “And whatsoever ye do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God and the Father by him.”

  So, even the mundane reports needed to be done well and with a good attitude—something else he needed to be reminded of on a daily basis. His hope was that one day all of the empire his father had built and hoarded could be used to help the poor or used for missions . . . however God directed him.

  Two hours into the afternoon, he stretched his arms and back as a sense of accomplishment filled him. He dipped his pen and signed the last page, conveying that he’d checked and double-checked the work. Another task complete.

  Shifting his gaze to the window, he took in the sunshine and perfect white clouds dotting a blue sky. It would make for a great picture. Made him imagine what it would look like through the lens of his new camera. The clock chimed the hour. Perhaps he’d be able to get away in time to drive by Lake Michigan. His favorite view.

  “Ray!” Dad’s booming voice pulled his attention away from the window. Looming in the doorway, with a catlike smile on his features, his dad stroked his beard. “I’ve got exciting news.” Even if it wasn’t exciting for anyone but him, Dad would expect anyone and everyone to listen and nod their agreement. His father’s presence dominated no matter where he went. “I’m sending you out to the new Harvey House at the Grand Canyon. I’ve been in discussions with the Harvey boys about the investment opportunities in the West. They’ve agreed to advertise for us, and we will do the same for them here.”

  Ray leaned back in his chair. Dad was always looking for new ways to expand and get his name out there. “What exactly will they advertise for us? It’s not like we have the same attraction as the Grand Canyon.”

  “I asked them to start with our art galleries and jewelry stores. Since the wealthy will most likely be the ones to make that trip, it will give them something to look forward to when they come home. Or perhaps those who aren’t from Chicago or New York will want to take a trip so they can visit one of our fine establishments. I’m even thinking of building out west myself. Oh, make sure you pack that box-camera-photograph thing of yours.” He waved a hand, as if that would make the right word appear.

  Ray’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?” He couldn’t trust himself to say much more. All he could do was attempt to mask his shock. When had Dad ever expressed any interest in his photography?

  Dad sat in the chair across from him and leaned back with his hands folded across his chest. “It’s supposed to be a grand affair—the El Tovar I believe is what it’s called. My investors are eager to hear how we can capitalize on the Atchison, Topeka, and Santa Fe rail line. Everyone is fascinated with the West and wants their piece of it. Harvey has a good corner of it now, so we need to find our own niche.”

  Ray’s heart sank a bit. It was just another errand for the investors. What would he have to do this time? Make a list of all the Harvey Houses along the way? Journal the food that people could purchase along the line? His initial shock about being asked to bring his camera faded fast. Another waste of money for Dad and a waste of time for him. He let out a sigh. Not exactly the good attitude he’d been aiming for.

  “The brand-new hotel is a charming, Swiss-chalet-looking lodge. Supposedly it has every amenity the social elite will enjoy.” He leaned forward and lifted his chin, that telltale sparkle in his eye. “But next door—or across the courtyard—is the Hopi House, designed by a Miss Mary Colter. She’s been a decorator for Harvey and a designer. But she knows the Indians. It’s a lovely Pueblo structure that represents the magnificent people of the West and houses their art. Apparently, they’ve got real Indians from nearby villages who create the art right there in front of people. This is Harvey’s new plan, to have Indian art and souvenir shops next to their hotels. But at this location, they’ve put an exhibit of rare and costly specimens. It’s the priceless Harvey collection that won the grand prize at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition.”

  That actually was interesting to Ray. “So, you’d like me to visit and detail what El Tovar offers its visitors?”

  “Yes, but I also need you to think bigger. Our class is fascinated with the West, didn’t you hear me? Fascinated. Primitive as it may be.”

  Next would come the lecture on how to charm the rich into spending money. Again. Investing in something new and interesting. Building the company into something bigger than Rockefeller or Vanderbilt dared to dream. Ray had heard the spiel before, but he nodded at all the appropriate places and listened.

  His father had been criticized often for his unfocused way of doing business. Rather than investing in oil, steel, coal, the railroads, or even creating or making something, Ray Watkins Senior was all about trying his hand at everything: investing in real estate, jewelry, art, restaurants, hotels . . . it was all over the map. And he’d made quite a fortune, but their investors were always looking for more. Lots more.

  “What I’m saying is that I’m giving you an incredible opportunity. You need to ponder the tough questions. What could we—our investors—capitalize upon? What else could we build there that could attract our social crowd? What would people want to spend money on? I’ve heard that more and more people are willing to venture down into the canyon. The stories good ol’ Ralph Cameron has sent state that he’s getting a hefty profit from his toll on the Bright Angel Trail. You need to find out if we can get in on something like that too.” Dad stood and began pacing. A sure indicator that he was winding up for even more ideas.

  Not one to usually interrupt his father when he was on a roll, Ray couldn’t let one thing pass. “Why did you want me to bring my camera?”

  Dad’s face turned very serious. “To send me pictures, of course. I need to see what’s there: the canyon, the hotel, the opportunities, the art.” Dad pointed a finger at him. “Don’t forget the art. Perhaps we could even acquire some of it for the galleries here.” He went back to stroking his beard. “I know this is a larger task than I’ve given you before, and it will be quite time consuming, but I need you to be my eyes and ears. It may be some time before I can get away myself. So be thorough.”

  He clasped his hands behind his back and lifted his chin. “I’m counting on you. This could be huge for us. Expansion into the West is our future.” With a dramatic flair, Dad sat back down in the chair and leaned forward. “I’ll send at least two or three men with you to help. Put them to work for whatever you need, but keep in mind I’ve got several other errands for each of them to run.”

  Of course he did. Dad always had an agenda other than just the errands he’d send Ray to pursue. But one day, through hard work and perseverance, he was determined to have his father trust him with the entirety of the business. But Dad wasn’t one to let things go easily. He liked being in complete control. “How long do you want me to stay?”

  “It will probably take several weeks. Or even perhaps a couple months, I would imagine. I’ll let you know when you’ve accomplished all that needs to be done. Once I’ve had time to look over everything you send, I’ll need to meet with the investors here and possibly bring some of them out to see it for themselves. That’s why it’s crucial for you to send me detailed reports—something I know you are outstanding at producing.”

  “Thank you, Dad.” He’d take the compliment, seeing as his father didn’t hand them out very of
ten. “When would you like me to leave?”

  “Within the week, if possible.”

  Ray stood, straightened the papers he’d been working on, and placed his pen back in the holder. He offered Dad a smile. “I guess I better start packing then. I wonder what the weather is like in the Arizona Territory this time of year?” He shrugged. “I guess I need to prepare for multiple seasons if I’m to be away for a couple months.”

  His father stood as well, gripped Ray’s upper arm with his left hand, and shook his right hand vigorously. “I’m excited for this next stage for you, son. One day, I know you’ll make a fine head for this company—my legacy—and bring even more pride to the Watkins name.”

  Still shaking Dad’s hand, Ray smiled. “I hope to make you proud.”

  “You have.” With a brief nod, he turned on his heel and left.

  Ray sat back behind his desk and pulled a small notebook out of a drawer. Best to start a list of all he needed to bring with him, especially if he was to be away for months. Which really wasn’t a problem. It wasn’t like there was anyone or anything that truly tied him to Chicago. The senior Watkins had sent him on many trips since he’d come home as a college graduate hoping to take on the business. At least this one didn’t seem to be as tedious or even as frivolous as so many of the others had been. Perhaps Dad was ready to start handing him some more responsibility. It was an encouraging thought.

  The patience he’d learned the past few years after he’d turned his life around had begun to feel like it would never bear fruit. Today was proof that Reverend James had been correct. The pages of the notebook in front of him blurred as his thoughts rushed back to their last conversation.

  “You’ve been given a second chance. Don’t waste it by complaining about what you wish you could do. Instead focus on what you can do. Be grateful to Almighty God. It’s time to show your family that you’ve changed. You’ve given your life over to the Lord and are allowing Him to work in you. Perhaps you will have an impact on them as well. The wild Ray Watkins of your youth is gone.”

  “But there’s still so much guilt inside,” Ray had replied. “How do I get past the horrible things I’ve done? Is it even fair for me to have a fresh start?”

  “Thankfully, the good Lord doesn’t give us what we deserve. Your sins were covered on the cross. They’re paid for in full. Now, go and live for Him.” Reverend James squeezed his shoulder and then headed for the door. Hat in his hands, he turned back toward him. “You didn’t kill that young boy, Ray. Remember that.”

  2

  Thankful that she only had her small reticule to carry, Emma Grace couldn’t help but latch on to the excitement in the head waitress’s voice. Was Miss Anniston going to take her to see the canyon? It was unheard of to take a staff member out for sightseeing before giving them their new assignment and duties. It definitely went against everything she’d learned of life as a Harvey Girl.

  Miss Anniston must have seen the confused look on Emma Grace’s face when the head waitress turned toward her. “Don’t worry, we have plenty of time to talk about the job. I know you are well versed in Harvey House rules, but this is an exception. A prerequisite of sorts before you start working.”

  As they walked the steep path up and around the hotel, Emma Grace’s breath caught in her throat. The sun’s rays from the west lit up the snowy landscape as she glimpsed her first view. “Oh my.”

  Miss Anniston reached out a hand and tugged on her elbow. “It gets even better.” The smile that lit up her face made her eyes sparkle with merriment. She tucked her hands back into the pockets of her coat and set an even faster pace.

  Emma Grace could hardly wait to get to the rim in front of her. Every step closer brought more into view. The deep rusts, oranges, and reds of the canyon shone in the winter light. Her breaths came in gasps as they stopped and stood at the rim. She let her reticule drop into her left hand and put her right over her chest. Never in her life could she have imagined anything so beautiful.

  “Take a moment to catch your breath. We’re a lot higher here. I know it seemed like it was flat coming in on the train, but we are at an elevation that is close to matching some mountains. I believe it’s over seven thousand feet here, so that’s why it’s a lot easier to get out of breath. The house doctor spoke to me about preparing all of the girls for this, especially since there’s a lot of stairs in the hotel. You’ll want to drink plenty of water.” The woman’s lighthearted chatter made her feel even more at ease. “It’s amazing, isn’t it?”

  “I’d seen a photograph in a newspaper before I came. But it couldn’t capture this. I had no idea.” Emma Grace couldn’t take it all in. As she let her gaze roam the horizon in front of her, the sheer vastness of the canyon overwhelmed her. Words were inadequate. It was almost as if her eyes were incapable of taking in such glorious wonder. “It’s so much larger than I imagined. I would have never guessed . . . my goodness.”

  It wasn’t just a canyon cut by the river. It was as if she stood atop a mountain looking into the valley below, and it was all sheer cliffs, ripples of rocks in varying colors as far as the eye could see. She couldn’t even fathom the height where they stood compared to the tiny ribbon of river she could see far, far below. For a moment, it took her breath away and made her dizzy.

  “You’d have to traverse more than five hundred miles if you wanted to circumvent the entire canyon. God is quite the artist. There’s nothing quite like seeing it in person to be in awe of the Creator.”

  Miss Anniston’s casual references to God made her cringe. Growing up, she’d gone to church with her parents, before her mother died. The boring reverend touted the wrath of God, especially for those who were willful and stubborn—two things Mother called her often. God definitely hadn’t helped her as a child. And there’d been no sign of Him once she was grown either. If He was all powerful and concerned about her, why would He take her mother? Why had He allowed her to be kidnapped? And then why would He let her father try to sell her off to the highest bidder?

  She blinked away the thoughts and focused on the beauty before her. None of that mattered anymore. Not her father. Not the past. Not God. She was here and ready to start over again. Hopefully for the last time.

  The vivid colors and distinctions of the layers of the canyon contrasted with the deep blue of the sky in the afternoon sun. Nothing like the shades of gray from the photograph in the paper. The green of the evergreen trees around her amongst the snow-covered rocky edges made her realize that even as desolate and vast as it seemed, there was still life and growth here.

  As she turned her head slowly right and then to the left to take it all in, she knew that she could spend a lifetime trying to do just that. “The Grand Canyon is a fitting name, and yet it doesn’t do it justice.”

  “I agree. No matter how many times I see it, it changes and becomes even more beautiful. Every season is different, or so I’ve been told, and every sunrise and sunset more glorious than the last.” Miss Anniston’s shoulders shook with a shiver. “Wait until you see your first thunderstorm.” She let out a long sigh. “Anyway, let’s get you inside. I know it’s freezing, but I just didn’t think it was fair to not let you see it first.”

  “Thank you, Miss Anniston.” Emma Grace breathed in the crisp air and tore her eyes from the canyon. “I’m so grateful you brought me here.”

  “Please, when it’s just us, call me Ruth. We’re going to be working quite closely together. Come on, I’ll show you around a bit more while your things are brought to your room.”

  Nodding, she allowed herself to smile. Perhaps she’d have a friend in Ruth. Years of keeping her distance from everyone made her crave a real relationship. But her heart sank a bit. Her whole identity was a façade. How could she be real with anyone?

  It didn’t matter. Maybe she could pour herself into exploring the canyon. It’d been so long since she’d allowed herself to even think about having an adventure. That had been what had spurred her on in her youth. Always s
eeking adventure. Her mind went back to her favorite books and how she’d dreamed of running away when she was a child. Once it clicked that her father and Mr. Cooper had been involved in her kidnapping—that they’d used her for their gain—she’d come up with dozens of outlandish scenarios. Anything to get away. Books had been her escape and had spurred the creative engine to life.

  It was easy to dream back then and not understand the reality of life on her own as an adult. But she’d learned. And she’d grown. Her life may not be as fantastic as life was in 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea, but it promised to be an adventure here with an entire canyon to explore. The canyon could be her best friend.

  Ruth led her back toward the east side of the building. The path along the rim would be wonderful for their guests, and it was barely a stone’s throw from the hotel. They walked all the way around the beautiful structure. “Here’s the main entrance for the guests, with the Hopi House to your left.”

  The entrance for the guests was lovely indeed. She could imagine carriages pulling up to the front circle drive, with people not only seeing the beautiful hotel but also the canyon. Many might not ever want to leave, if not for it being so far from civilization.

  When Emma Grace looked to her left, the boxy, large sandstone structure that greeted her was nothing like that of the hotel. With small windows and several ladders going up between the levels of roofs, it reminded her of Pueblo architecture she’d seen before, which was built to keep the desert sun out and the cool air in. It was also an impressive building.