A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  After she delivered the bread and butter, she turned to him. “Your men didn’t return with you?”

  The smile in his eyes diminished, and his jaw clenched for a moment. “I’m sorry to say they won’t be returning.”

  “Oh, I hope that doesn’t hinder your plans.” It was odd that he hadn’t mentioned that last night. Of course, he’d looked exhausted.

  He tilted his head back and forth for a moment. “It’s really up to what my father has planned.”

  “Will he be coming from Chicago?”

  “At some point, yes.” He leaned back in his chair and rested his elbows on the arms.

  She jolted. “I’m so sorry, I just realized you don’t have water or coffee. I’ll be right back.”

  As quickly as she could, she went back to the station and grabbed a carafe and pitcher. When she came back to the table, he was straightening his silverware. Strange. She’d seen him do that once before. She poured the coffee and water.

  “Thank you.” He took a sip of his coffee. “What are the amazing specials coming out of Chef’s kitchen this evening? Actually, you don’t need to tell me. I would love some more of that beef stroganoff if that is available.”

  The fact that he liked her suggestion the other night made her smile. “It is. I’ll bring it right out. Would you like anything else?”

  “Plenty of bread, if you don’t mind. The aroma is making my stomach rumble.”

  “Coming right up. With butter, if I remember correctly? Blackberry jelly too?”

  “Of course.” He lifted a finger toward her. “You are quite amazing, Miss Edwards. Thank you for remembering and taking such good care of me.”

  His compliment sent a warm feeling through her as she walked away. It was nice to be appreciated. She placed his order and then prepared his basket of bread and condiments. As she headed back to table one and Mr. Watkins, she saw that her guests at table three were leaving. The boisterous group had been eating for more than two hours. Their table would be quite the mess to clean up. But Eli was the busboy for her tables this evening, and he would have it ready for customers in a jiffy.

  “Here you are.” She set the basket on the table.

  “Thank you.” He reached for his butter knife.

  “Has Mr. Henderson told you that I will be going with you on your hike down Bright Angel Trail on Monday?” Feeling rather bold, she finished it with a smile. Just in case he had a problem with it, she’d rather hear about it now.

  The broadest smile she’d ever seen crossed his face and made his eyes light up. “No, I hadn’t heard. I’m so glad you can join us.”

  “Are you certain? I don’t wish to intrude. Caroline and I can go on our own.”

  “Nonsense. That is the best news I’ve heard all day.”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “You must have had a pretty awful day if that’s true.”

  He made a face, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

  “Miss?” The gentleman from table two caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Watkins. I’ll be back with your dinner shortly.”

  “I look forward to it.”

  After seeing to the needs of the other table, she welcomed the guests who had been seated at table three. The evening carried on in a usual bluster of busyness. But after Mr. Watkins arrived, things felt different.

  Every time she returned to table one, he shared a fact with her about their upcoming hike—which he admitted came from a sheet of paper he’d obtained from Mr. Cameron, who owned the trail. Even so, it lifted her spirits that he would seek to bring her a bit of joy as she worked.

  While she was careful not to linger too long with guests or pester them with any personal questions, per Harvey House rules, she was able to answer topics broached by guests. So, she didn’t feel guilty in the slightest talking with Mr. Watkins, and it helped make her shift fly by.

  For that, she was grateful.

  When he stood to leave, a sense of loss filled her. No matter, the day had been a long one—but thanks to him, an enjoyable one. Besides, she’d see him tomorrow and then they’d have a chance to see each other all day on Monday.

  The thought made her smile as she finished up her evening chores in the dining room. When everything was finished, the line of girls in their black dresses and white aprons headed to their quarters, chatting and laughing along the way. The camaraderie they had built here was different than other Harvey Houses. As much as Emma Grace had kept to herself, they still included her. Which made her long to embrace this group that had begun to feel a bit like family.

  She shook her head as she walked down the hall to her room. What had gotten into her? For years, she hadn’t let anyone close. No one. Now, she found herself opening up like a rosebud getting ready to bloom. Ruth, Caroline, Mr. Owens, Frank.

  Then there was Mr. Watkins. Tonight, she’d found herself watching him. Noticing his manners. His sharp wit. And his good looks. The man was kind to everyone, a trait not often seen in the ultra-rich. The difference was startling. And, for some reason, he was paying attention to her. Acting as if he wanted to know her better.

  Why would that be so bad? If Frank Henderson had befriended the man, he couldn’t be a cad, could he?

  Even as tired as she was, the excitement of Monday gave her renewed energy.

  Unlocking her door, she allowed herself to sigh. It had been a good day.

  “Are you as tired as I am?” Ruth’s voice sounded behind her.

  Emma Grace turned to her friend. “Yes.” She let out an exaggerated moan.

  “Good thing I had sense to sign up for the tub tonight. My shoulders are screaming at me.”

  Emma Grace laughed and opened her door. “Well, enjoy a soak, Ruth. You deserve it. I am going straight to bed.”

  “Good night.” Ruth’s singsong voice floated toward her.

  “Good night.” Emma Grace closed her door behind her and leaned up against it. For the first time since she ran away, she actually felt at home.

  It was a great feeling.

  She untied her apron and pulled the pins from her hair. As she turned toward the wardrobe, she noticed a piece of paper over by the door. Hopefully Caroline wasn’t backing out of their hike already.

  Bending over to retrieve it, she put a hand to the small of her back. Ouch. Maybe she should have signed up for the tub too.

  The sheet of paper was folded in half, and as she flicked it open with her fingers, her breath caught in her throat as she read the words.

  I know who you are.

  10

  I know who you are.”

  The voice’s haunting whisper chased Emma Grace up the stairs. Her nightgown wrapped around her legs with every step.

  No matter how hard she pushed, she couldn’t go any faster, and each step seemed higher to reach than the last, until she was climbing them like a ladder, using her hands and feet. But the threat behind her kept her moving up, up, up.

  Swallowing the pulsating lump in her throat, she climbed. Sweat poured from her brow.

  But when she reached the top, she didn’t know which way to go. Halls stretched out in every direction. There had to be some safe place to hide. Somewhere.

  She ran down a hall, grabbing at doorknobs, but none of them would open any of the doors.

  Her bare feet sank into the carpet as she turned around and ran as fast as she could down another hall.

  The very last door creaked open. Had she found a place to hide?

  “Emma Grace!” Someone patted her face. “Emma Grace.” They patted much harder. “Wake up!”

  Ow. Her cheek stung. She opened her eyes and blinked several times.

  Ruth hovered over her bed and let out a whoosh of breath. “It’s okay. You’re awake now.”

  “What’s going on?” She grabbed at the neck of her nightgown, her palms sweaty, her heart racing. The room was dark except for a shaft of light coming in from where Ruth had left the door between their rooms open.

&nbs
p; “You were having a nightmare.” Ruth sat down on the bed next to her. “You didn’t scream this time, but I heard a crash and came in. You must’ve knocked your books off the table. You were thrashing about on the bed and moaning, so I thought it best to wake you.”

  Emma Grace scooted up to where she could sit against the wall and pulled her knees to her chest. Her heart still hadn’t calmed down to its natural pace. And she couldn’t remember the nightmare, only the feeling that she was being chased. She peeked over at the nightstand. The note lay there. Taunting her. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

  “No, don’t apologize. I’m glad you did. Is something bothering you? Was it the same dream?” Ruth’s gaze followed where she’d been looking.

  “I don’t know.” She put a hand to her forehead. “I just remember this awful feeling that someone was after me.”

  Her friend crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s in the note?” One eyebrow shot up.

  Emma Grace stared long and hard at the door. She should have known Ruth would figure it out. The woman’s job was to observe everything. “Go ahead and read it.” She closed her eyes and heard the swish of the paper as Ruth opened it.

  “Where’d you find this?” Her voice had a hard edge to it.

  “On the floor. Last night after I came in. Someone must have slipped it under the door.”

  “So that means it was someone here. In the hotel.” She refolded the paper and tapped it against her palm. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  The question cut to Emma Grace’s heart. “I . . . well . . . you were taking a bath.” There wasn’t any excuse other than her own fear. She’d been so upset by the note that she hadn’t been able to think straight. For several hours, she’d huddled in the corner of her room. When her limbs became numb and cold, the shivering started. It had been sometime in the middle of the night that she’d managed to undress and climb into bed. Sleep had come only because her body was exhausted. But it hadn’t lasted very long.

  Her friend gripped her shoulders. “Look, I know you’re scared. But you have to trust someone. You can’t go through this alone.”

  “I do trust you. . . . I guess I was just in shock.”

  Ruth scooted onto the bed and leaned against the wall too. “This is what I think. I think you’ve had to do everything on your own for so long that you’re not used to people being there for you or reaching out to you.”

  The words held weight.

  “And here’s what else I think. You’re so busy trying to be brave and take care of yourself that you’ve shoved God back because you don’t think He can be trusted.”

  “He can’t be.” That much she was sure of.

  “I disagree. Have you tried?” Ruth pushed. But she sat there all relaxed, like this was a normal conversation. She wasn’t angry or upset.

  “Humph. Not in a long time.”

  “‘I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.’” Ruth got up from the bed. “It’s from Psalm thirty-four. You know, my pastor back in Kansas used to say all the time that fear isn’t from the Lord. Because God is love. He’s peace. He’s comfort and strength. Fear is the opposite of all that God is so it’s obviously from the devil. I think you’ve shut God out, and He’s just waiting for you to open the door back up.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

  The words about God sounded completely different coming from someone Emma Grace had come to respect. They weren’t hollered down on her from a raging reverend in his fancy attire and gold rings. “What was that verse again?”

  “‘I sought the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me from all my fears.’”

  Emma Grace closed her eyes and whispered them back to herself three times. At this point, she was willing to try just about anything. Even trusting God.

  A knock sounded through the other room, on Ruth’s door. Ruth looked at the clock. “I was thinking it was still the middle of the night, but it looks like it’s time to get up. I’ll be right back.” She shuffled through the door and back into her room. As the head waitress, she had to deal with all sorts of questions and issues from the girls before their shifts started.

  Hushed voices carried through to Emma Grace, but she couldn’t hear what they were saying. She said the verse to herself three more times. How she longed for the Lord to hear her and deliver her from these nightmares.

  God, if You’re really there . . . what? What could she possibly do to earn His attention? Please hear me.

  Nothing happened. Oh well. It’s not like she felt she was deserving of God’s help.

  Ruth peeked her head back into the room. “You’ll want to see this.”

  Emma Grace got up, put on her dressing gown, and followed.

  Four other waitresses stood in the hallway: Margaret, Leah, Elizabeth, and Jane. Ruth held up four pieces of paper in front of her face. Just like the note Emma Grace had received. With the same words. “It looks like you don’t have anything to worry about.”

  The head waitress addressed the other girls. “When did you find these?”

  “This morning.” Margaret bit her lip.

  “Just now?”

  All the girls nodded.

  “I see. Well, likely someone is playing a prank. This type of behavior isn’t allowed, so rest assured, I will get to the bottom of this.” Ruth’s gaze swung to Emma Grace’s. “I promise.”

  Every muscle in her body ached. Probably from crouching in the corner for so many hours last night. Add to that the lack of sleep and the idea that someone was pulling a prank on several Harvey Girls, and Emma Grace wanted to go back to her room and stay there. For a long time.

  But that wasn’t an option.

  The Sunday brunch was almost over, and she couldn’t wait to get away. Hopefully most of her customers were so busy enjoying the day that they hadn’t noticed the difference in her demeanor.

  Except Mr. Watkins. He noticed. Even commented on it, but she had pasted on her same smile and told him not to worry.

  If only she could convince herself of that.

  As soon as her tables were all empty, she headed over to Ruth. “I really need to go to my room and lie down.”

  The head waitress’s brow creased with worry. “It’s fine. You go on and head down. I’ll come check on you in about an hour. I’m praying for you, Emma Grace.”

  With a nod, she headed toward the stairs. While it touched her that her friend would pray for her, none of the faith talk made any sense.

  Back at her room, she changed out of her uniform so she wouldn’t wrinkle it and laid on her bed. In a simple day dress, she curled her legs up under her skirt, draped her arm over her forehead, and closed her eyes. Why would anyone send a note like that?

  A light tapping on her door made her sit up. Had she fallen asleep?

  She must have because her mind didn’t want to wake up. But she sat up and went to the door.

  Cracking it an inch, she saw Ruth and relaxed. “Come on in.”

  “I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

  A yawn kept her from answering for a moment. “It’s all right. I guess I didn’t realize I’d fallen asleep.”

  “You needed it, I’m sure.” Ruth came in and sat on the chair across from the bed. “I spoke to Mr. Owens just a little bit ago about the notes.”

  “Oh?”

  “He wants to speak to each worker individually and get to the bottom of it. He thinks it’s a prank by one of the girls. Every house I’ve been in, we’ve had one who just doesn’t like to follow the rules and will get into all kinds of trouble just for attention. It must be a coincidence that you received one.”

  “But what about the fact that I found mine last night? The other girls didn’t get them until this morning.”

  “The other girls all share rooms. And it’s not like they are on their guard for any reason. It was the end of a long day and I’m sure they were just overlooked. They probably got them last night too. They just didn’t see them.”

  Maybe Emma Grace was
getting too worked up over this. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that the girls showed up with their notes right after she’d asked God to hear her. Maybe she could relax.

  “Listen, I was going to ask you to come with me for a little bit. Before the dinner rush.”

  Sunday was the only day the Harvey Girls weren’t required to be in the dining room the entire day. They served at brunch and then at dinner. Emma Grace glanced at the clock. “All right. What did you have in mind?”

  “Let’s go chat with Frank.”

  Grabbing a sweater and her coat, she followed her friend out the door and then locked it. “Why Frank?”

  “Because he leads us in a small worship service on Sunday mornings. He taught this morning on a passage in Psalms that I think might comfort you.”

  “Oh.” Was she ready for more religious talk? Just because she’d asked the Lord to hear her didn’t mean she was ready to be preached at left and right.

  As they walked out to the rim, the view helped her to relax. Why was it that she could simply look at the canyon and feel like all was right with the world?

  To her surprise, Frank was sitting near the spot where they’d watched the sunrise the other day. With his legs dangling, a book in his lap, he turned to smile up at them.

  Ruth put a hand to her throat. “Mr. Henderson, aren’t you a bit concerned to be sitting on the edge like that?”

  “Not at all, Miss Anniston. In fact, a good friend showed me this technique.”

  Emma Grace laughed and took her seat next to him while Ruth looked on in complete shock. “Well, I don’t think I will be joining you.” She scooted back to a little bench and sat down.

  Frank leaned toward Emma Grace a bit and pointed over his shoulder with his thumb. “I do believe Miss Anniston is too proper to sit with us.”

  “Oh, hush, Frank Henderson. Just because I choose to sit on this nice, comfortable bench doesn’t mean I’m too proper. Besides, I much prefer looking at the back of your head.”