A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  A woman older than most of the other waitresses stood in the corner. Dressed in a black skirt, white blouse, and black ribbon tied at the collar, she kept watch over the entire room. She must be in charge.

  As several other guests left the dining room, Ray approached the woman. “I’d like to speak with our waitress, please.”

  “I’m Miss Anniston, the head waitress here. Was everything to your satisfaction?”

  “Oh yes, quite.” Heat crept up his neck. “I would just like to meet her. To thank her personally.”

  The attractive lady shook her head and smiled. “I’ll pass on your thanks, Mr. . . . ?”

  “Watkins. Ray Watkins.” He was losing ground and fast. “I, uh, feel the need to apologize for some inappropriate comments that were made at our table. Is there any chance you’d allow me to speak with her?”

  Miss Anniston shook her head again. “I’m sorry, Mr. Watkins, but no. I will let her know. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

  Ray nodded. Time to walk away, though he hated the thought.

  As he turned, disappointment washed over him. He’d been so eager to speak with her, and he didn’t even know her name. Why hadn’t he simply said something at the table? What had gotten into him? He’d never been smitten once in his life—well, except for his fourth-grade teacher, who helped him conquer math. That woman had been a saint with the patience of the good Lord Himself, and she always smelled like lilacs.

  To this day, he enjoyed the fragrance of lilacs.

  Ray debated with himself as he walked across the dining room floor. He’d made a mistake going to the head waitress. Now she would be watching him like a hawk. Not the best impression he’d ever made. He considered returning and apologizing to Miss Anniston, but as he turned on his heel, several waitresses headed in his direction, each carrying a large stack of plates.

  As they passed him, each one offered him a smile and a cordial, “Good evening.”

  Except for one.

  His waitress. Whose questioning gaze bore straight through him.

  As she passed, she lifted her chin ever so slightly and one eyebrow quirked up.

  Ray opened his mouth to speak, but she increased her pace and walked right on by without a word or a smile.

  4

  Running for all she was worth, Emma Grace followed the train tracks past the hotel and into the trees. Heavy steps behind her made her surge forward. Jumping from the tracks to a rocky path, she headed toward the canyon. There had to be a place to hide. Somewhere. Somewhere he couldn’t find her.

  “Don’t you try and get away from me. You hear me? I’ll find you no matter where you go.” The deep voice growled at her.

  Cries tore from her throat. No! She couldn’t let him catch her. Never. She couldn’t go back.

  She tripped over a rock and landed with her palms on the edge of the canyon. Pebbles skittered down the steep drop-off. Her vision tilted as the height made her gasp for air. Her heart raced. Tumbling down into the canyon would kill her.

  Pushing up to her hands and knees, she took a steadying breath and then scurried backward. Think. Where could she go?

  Hands gripped her shoulders from behind.

  “No!” She tried to get free.

  The hands pushed harder. Shook her.

  “No! Let me go!”

  “Emma Grace, it’s me. Ruth.” The voice of a woman broke through.

  The canyon disappeared. She couldn’t see anything. It was all black. Had the man caught her? Pinned down, she flailed, trying to free herself.

  “Emma Grace. Calm down.” The woman’s voice soothed.

  “No! You can’t make me! I won’t do it.” She had to get away.

  “Emma. Grace.” The voice was firmer now. “You need to wake up. Everything is fine. You’re safe.”

  The words washed over her.

  With a slow inhale, she rolled over onto her back, then opened her eyes. The room was dark, with only the lamp beside her bed offering a soft glow. She released the breath and started trembling.

  Ruth sat on the bed beside her, concern etched all over her face. “Are you all right?”

  Words wouldn’t come. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on steadying her breathing.

  “Gracious, you’re soaking wet. Come on, sit up. We need to get you changed.” Ruth tugged at her arms.

  Emma Grace gripped Ruth’s hands as if she could grip reality through them. All the remnants of the dream vanished. She was back at the El Tovar. Safe in her room. “I’m all right. It was just a nightmare.” She wiped sweat from her forehead.

  “That was some nightmare. It took all of my strength to pin you down. Would you like to talk about it?”

  “No. I don’t remember it.” The lie made her cringe inwardly, but it couldn’t be helped. She’d had the nightmares a few times over the past few years, but since she’d shared a room, the other girls had been able to awaken her sooner.

  This time, the man in the dream had gotten a lot closer. Rubbing the back of her neck, she tried to push it out of her mind. But that didn’t work. She swung her legs over the edge of the bed. Sweat had indeed soaked her from head to toe. “I think I might actually go take a bath.” But as she went to stand, her knees buckled.

  “You’re shaking. Why don’t you take a few minutes to gather your senses?” Ruth placed an arm around her shoulders. “I’ve heard you call out in your sleep for a few nights now, but every time I came to your door, it was quiet again. Tonight seemed to be quite frightening for you. Have you had one of these before?” The words weren’t accusing, but soft and concerned.

  Emma Grace didn’t have the energy to come up with a decent story. If she wanted to stay here long term, perhaps it was best for her to confide in someone. Just not everything. “Yes. But I’ve always shared a room, so I’ve been awoken before he . . .” She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d already said too much.

  Ruth patted her back and then slowly rose to stand in front of her. “You don’t have to say any more tonight.” The lines between her brows were deep, and Emma Grace could almost feel the pity. Then Ruth’s expression softened. “Let’s go get a bath ready for you.”

  “Thank you.” Her whispered words caught in her throat. It had been a long time since anyone had shown this kind of care. Probably because it was the first time she’d allowed herself to be vulnerable. Every other time, she’d laughed it off with the other Harvey Girls and pretended the nightmares didn’t bother her. Her carefully crafted façade had placed a wall between her and everyone else. It had been five years since she even permitted herself to think about having a real friend.

  Friend.

  The word made her want to cry. Was she ready to open herself up?

  Doubts flowed through her as fast as a river during spring thaw.

  “Come on.” Ruth reached forward and grabbed her hands. “I’ll make a pallet here on your floor so you won’t be alone tonight. Then, after you’ve had a relaxing bath, maybe we can both get a little more sleep tonight.”

  With her friend’s help, Emma Grace stood up and went to the wardrobe to fetch a clean nightdress and her dressing gown. “You don’t have to do that, Ruth. I’ve already stolen too much of your rest. Don’t worry about me.”

  “I won’t take no for an answer. I’m sleeping here the rest of the night. Then, tomorrow evening after we’re done with our shifts, I think we should sit down with a cup of tea and talk.” Her tone held the ring of authority.

  Emma Grace didn’t argue. At least she’d have the whole day to formulate a plan and decide exactly what she wanted to share. Enough of the truth that Ruth would understand, but not enough to put her in danger.

  After Ruth had plenty of hot water in the tub, she turned to the door. “I’ll go get my things moved into your room.”

  With a nod, she watched her close the door and then disrobed and climbed into the tub. The hot water helped to ease her muscles, and she did her best to let go of the anxiety that clawed at her. But even a
fter several minutes of soaking and a good scrubbing of her skin, she couldn’t rid her mind of the question. What had made her have a nightmare tonight? It had been so real. She could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as she remembered being pursued.

  Shaking her head of the thoughts, she dunked her head under the water and tried to wash it all away.

  When she came up for air, she knew what it was. The men from table one. By the window. She could see each of their faces in her memory. Then one of them had spoken to Ruth after dinner. Had he recognized her? What had he wanted?

  She climbed out of the tub and dried off as quickly as she could. The sooner she could get dressed and back in her room, the sooner she could find out what that man wanted.

  With her things gathered in her arms, she slid her feet into her slippers and then opened the door and headed back down the hall to her room.

  Ruth met her halfway. “Do you feel any better?”

  “I do, yes. Thank you.”

  Once they were back in her room, Ruth closed the door and locked it, then gestured down at her pallet. “I tried to give you enough space where you wouldn’t trip over me if you had to get up before me. But if you step on me, I’ll live.” Her light laughter was a nice break to the seriousness of how they’d left this room before.

  “I appreciate you sacrificing your own bed for me. It’s really not necessary—”

  “Yes, it is.” Ruth held up a hand. “Mr. Owens told me that some of these rooms have doors between them, ones not in the hallway. I’ll ask him about it tomorrow. If there is one, we could leave that door unlocked or even open in the middle of the night if you think that would help.”

  “There’s another door?” Emma Grace looked around. “I don’t see it.”

  Ruth pointed to the wardrobe. “It might be behind that. It was smart of them to install the adjoining rooms in case there was a need for them in the future. Nobody else knows they are there. Except for Mr. Owens, of course.”

  “I think it would be a good idea to keep the door open once we are in for the night. That way, I won’t wake anyone else up—not that I have nightmares often. But I hate that the responsibility will be on your shoulders.” The thought of everyone knowing about her night terrors made her really uncomfortable. “I didn’t disturb anyone else, did I?”

  “No. At least I didn’t see anyone out in the hall. Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.” Ruth yawned and sat down on her pallet on the floor. “We’ve only got a couple hours before dawn, so we better get what rest we can.”

  Emma Grace bit her lip. “May I ask you one question?” She climbed into bed and turned off the lamp.

  “Of course.”

  “I saw one of the gentlemen from table one speaking to you after dinner. Was he”—how could she ask this?—“complaining or upset about his service tonight?” There. That sounded innocent enough.

  A sound that was almost a laugh crossed the room. “Gracious no. I think he was sweet on you and wanted a chance to talk to you, but he used the excuse that perhaps you’d overheard some inappropriate comments made by his companions and said he wanted to apologize.”

  Relief filled her chest as the throbbing in her temples eased. She let her body relax and released a soft breath. “Oh.” She worked to keep her voice steady and calm. “I was worried I had done something wrong.”

  “Not at all.” The rustling of sheets sounded as Ruth settled in for the remainder of the night. “I’ve had the privilege of watching you for a week now, Emma Grace. Your work is impeccable. No wonder the recommendations from your previous managers have been stellar. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Harvey Girl as poised, professional, and graceful as you.”

  The words rang in her ears over and over. The praise of this woman soothed the raw places in her heart.

  Sinking into the soft feather pillow, she allowed her thoughts to wander back to Boston. Back to home. Back when her family had been intact and everything seemed . . . happy.

  A single tear slipped down her cheek. When she was quite small, her parents had been inseparable. Quick to smile. Full of love and laughter. But maybe that was all a dream from her little-girl mind. Because she couldn’t remember much after her brother passed. There’d been a lot of sadness after Mother died. Then Father worked all the time.

  She shivered in her bed.

  Maybe the happiness she remembered wasn’t real. It probably never was.

  But as she closed her eyes, her heart ached for the family she’d adored. And one question kept haunting her. What would her parents think of her now?

  The next morning, the question still bothered her. Why was she all of a sudden so worried about what her parents would think of her? They were gone. And there was nothing she could do about it. This was her life now.

  With a quick stretch behind the buffet, Emma Grace put on a smile and walked out to her tables. The lack of sleep last night made her wish she could go back to bed, but that wasn’t an option. Besides, a good day at work should keep her mind off everything. There wasn’t a lot of extra time to think or worry during a twelve-hour shift. Especially now that the hotel was full to capacity. When they weren’t serving the guests, they were polishing the silverware—a lot of it. Over and over again.

  She pushed her spectacles up her nose, gave the tight knot at the back of her head a quick pat, and nodded to the lovely couple at table two. While it wasn’t directly in front of one of the windows, it did offer the warmth from the fireplace and a lovely view. “Good morning. Would you like some coffee while you peruse your breakfast choices?”

  “Yes, for both of us, please.” The lady’s sweet smile as she moved closer toward her husband nearly screamed that they were newlyweds.

  “I’ll return in just a moment to take your orders.” Emma Grace filled their cups and turned toward table one. She couldn’t help it that her eyes widened when she realized the sole occupant was none other than the man who had spoken to Ruth last night.

  Thankfully, he was reading a paper and hadn’t seen her reaction. She blinked and took a breath. “Good morning, sir. Dining alone for breakfast?”

  He looked up and his blue eyes connected with hers. “Good morning. Yes, it’s just me. My companions have some business to attend to in Williams.”

  “Oh.” Not the correct response for a Harvey Girl. She scrambled to get her thoughts in order. “Coffee?”

  “Yes. Thank you.” His smile was genuine and helped her unease to dissipate.

  As she filled his cup, she reminded herself that he hadn’t recognized her or been looking for her. He was just a customer. “Do you have any questions about the breakfast choices?” She studied him. His brown hair was neatly parted down the middle. His perfectly tailored suit with blue silk tie and gold tiepin spoke of great wealth. His accent told her that he definitely wasn’t from the Northeast. She’d know, because hers had been so strong, it had taken her a good year to consciously get rid of it.

  “I’d like to look at the menu for a bit, if that’s all right? I’m not in any big hurry this morning.” There was that smile again. Warm. And it made his eyes sparkle.

  “Of course. I’ll come back in a few minutes.” As she walked away, she let out a breath that she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding. While the man didn’t scare her anymore, there was something about him. Something that made him stand out. Perhaps it was simply because Ruth thought the man might be sweet on her.

  But there wasn’t time to dwell on it. “Good morning.” She greeted table three. “Coffee?”

  “Yes. We’d also like to order toast and fried eggs.” The man didn’t even look up from whatever he was reading.

  “For both of you?” Emma Grace tilted her head and glanced at the lady seated next to him. But she didn’t look up either. Her eyes were firmly glued to her lap.

  “Yes. Sunny-side up.” The man answered. Still no eye contact.

  “I’ll put in your orders immediately.” Turning toward the kitchen, she compared th
e customers from those three tables. What untold stories were there? And what a difference in demeanors. She could tell a lot about people from how they treated the Harvey Girls and other staff members. It fascinated her that after all her years in high society, she found it more comfortable to be among who she thought of as “regular” people. The wealthy were all too fake, in her opinion.

  After putting table three’s order in, she went to take the other tables’ breakfast choices. The lovey-dovey couple wanted French toast and fruit. Simple and easy. Time to head back over to table one.

  This time, the man’s paper was folded on the chair next to him and he looked straight at her, as if he’d been waiting.

  “I’m sorry. Did you have to wait too long?” She swallowed. Too many times, she’d been put in her place by the well-to-do.

  “Not at all.” He held up a hand, and the corners of his lips turned up again. “I was just looking forward to seeing you again.”

  “Oh.” Normally she quashed any flirtatious behavior immediately, but for some reason, this man didn’t seem to be casually flirting like all the other men she’d met. What was he up to?

  “Your hair is different this morning, and I don’t remember you wearing glasses yesterday.” It was his turn to study her. And the directness of his stare unnerved her a bit.

  Out of habit, she pushed the spectacles up her nose. “I couldn’t find them yesterday. It gave me quite a headache to work without them.”

  “My apologies. That was awfully uncouth of me. I meant for it to be a compliment to you. You look lovely.”

  No one else had said anything about her change in appearance. Funny that it would be a customer who commented on it. A wealthy, nice-looking male customer to boot. She cleared her throat and tried to quell the new feeling in her belly. “Have you decided what you would like to order?”

  “Does the chef have a specialty?”

  Now that they were back on familiar ground, she reminded herself to smile. She was a Harvey Girl, after all. “Yes. His croissants are quite delicious, as are the pancakes. Oh, and he makes the best omelets I’ve ever tasted.”