A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  She shook her head. “As much as I would like to agree with you, I don’t think that’s the case. There are millions of reasons to find me. There will never be an end to it. At least, not until . . .” She decided against saying the rest. The risk to everyone was already too great. She hadn’t told anyone that she’d seen the man who must have killed her father. Or the thought that if he found her and forced her into marriage, she would be next.

  “Not until what?” Ruth’s eyebrows betrayed the fact that she knew exactly what Emma Grace was thinking.

  “It’s not important. Don’t worry about me.” She lifted her chin a notch and looked Mr. Owens in the eye. “Thank you for doing such a valiant job of protecting me. I know I don’t deserve your loyalty, but it is much appreciated.” She turned to the waitresses’ station. “I need to get back to work.”

  The morning passed in regular rhythm, but Emma Grace really wasn’t paying much attention. She could do pretty much everything out of habit now. Not that she wanted to ignore her customers or do just enough to get by, but that’s how it felt. Almost as if she were outside herself, watching her body simply go through the motions.

  Her customers may not have noticed, but apparently Ruth did. After lunch, she pulled Emma Grace off to the side. “I think you need to go down to your room for a few minutes and take some time to pull yourself together.”

  “I’m fine.” She hated to argue with her friend and supervisor, but it had to be done. “If I think about it too much, it will simply make things worse. Please let me finish my shift today. I’ll have plenty of time to pull myself together tonight.”

  “Promise me that you’ll let me know if things get too overwhelming?” Her voice was tender, but Ruth’s look was stern and brooked no argument.

  “I promise.”

  “All right. It’s against my better judgment. But go ahead.”

  “Thank you.”

  The rest of the afternoon marched by as Emma Grace threw herself into her duties. She even took on extra just to keep her hands occupied. While the other girls chatted and giggled over the single male customers they’d served, Emma Grace polished the silver with more vigor than was needed.

  Dinner was soon upon them, and she poured herself into seeing to her customers’ needs. When Ray and his father sat down at table one, she greeted them as usual and kept it simple. Word had spread throughout the staff about Mr. Watkins Senior and his “request” for special food sent up to his room for the earlier meals, so that he wouldn’t have to be bothered by people.

  Apparently, the guests had heard as well, because the whispers and glances around the room couldn’t be missed. But Ray’s father seemed to relish it and smiled to the people around him. In a condescending way, of course. It wouldn’t have surprised Emma Grace if he stood from his chair and took a bow.

  She cringed at the direction of her thoughts and shook her head to banish them.

  Ray sent her several smiles, and she tried to act as if nothing was wrong. His dad didn’t much care for any conversation with “their waitress,” so she gave him plenty of space.

  At least she could look forward to taking a walk with Ray tonight. She’d spent so much time today thinking about her conundrum, that she’d finally come to a conclusion. She was ready to tell him everything.

  But what would he think of her?

  The only thing that consoled her was the fact that he had shared about his past already.

  She’d considered talking to Frank earlier, but her heart only wanted to talk to Ray. Now she just needed to get the nerve to do it.

  As soon as dinner and all the duties were complete, she went down to her room to grab her coat. Looking forward to the fresh air, she rallied her courage.

  The lack of sleep and the weight of carrying this burden had become too much. It was time.

  She unlocked her door and turned on the light.

  As she grabbed her coat, she noticed another note on the floor.

  No. She put a hand to her forehead. A pounding started in her ears.

  She bent down to pick up the note and sucked in her breath.

  Opening the folded paper, she read,

  I know the truth.

  Ray paced outside the Hopi House. He wasn’t sure if it was his father’s abrupt attitude with Emma Grace that had caused her to be distant, or if something else was bothering her, but he couldn’t wait to see her and make sure she was all right.

  The soft sound of footfalls behind him made him turn around. As he watched her approach, it became clear that something troubled her. Her arms were crossed over her waist, and her head was down.

  “What’s wrong?” He wanted to reach out to her and hold her—soothe whatever ailed her. But he didn’t have that right.

  As she lifted her gaze to him, the sadness in her eyes made him want to do whatever was in his power to take it away. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

  He took her elbow and led her down the path along the rim to a quiet place away from all the buildings. He wiped off a large boulder and directed her to it. “Here, please sit.”

  She did, but then surprised him by scooting over to the edge. “I think I need you to sit with me.”

  “All right.” He lowered himself to sit next to her, trying ever so hard to maintain space between them just in case anyone came upon them. He didn’t want to put her reputation in danger.

  She pulled a paper out of her pocket and handed it to him. “Here.”

  Taking it, he realized it was two notes. He opened the top one and read. “‘I know the truth.’” As he folded it back, he opened the second with his other hand. “‘I know who you are.’” His heart thudded in his chest. What did this mean? Who was she? He swallowed and turned to her.

  Her hands were clasped in her lap, and she stared straight ahead. “My name is Emma Grace McMurray—not Edwards.” Her knee began to bounce.

  As much as he wanted to ask the questions crowding his mind, he bit his tongue and waited for her to continue.

  “When I was a child, my parents doted on me, and I had everything I could possibly want. Then one day, when I was eight, I was kidnapped. All because of business. You see, my father owned parts of railroads and had built a vast empire. Apparently, there was a squabble over a certain spur. Eighteen miles of track. Guess how long my kidnapper kept me?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “Eighteen days.” Her shoulders lifted and then sank with a sigh. “My father never did tell me the truth about what happened. But by that point, I didn’t care to know. I only knew that men couldn’t be trusted. I never wanted to be fooled by a man ever again.”

  It all started to make sense. Her aloof response to him when they’d first met. Her hesitance around anyone of wealth.

  “My mother died shortly after. She’d taken to her bed while I was missing, and even though she was overjoyed when I was returned, the sickness had gone into her lungs. She was too weak to fight it.” Emma Grace crossed her arms over her middle again.

  “I’m so sorry for your loss. That must have been horrible.”

  A nod was barely perceptible in the scarce moonlight. “I was still reeling from being betrayed by my own father. Even though he didn’t say it to me directly, I knew he had some part in it. I saw him shaking hands with the man who kidnapped me. And my father’s hired man”—she nearly spat the word—“handed the kidnapper a bag of money. I know that’s what it was. They laughed about it and said it was just business. Thinking that, of course, I didn’t understand what was going on. But I knew . . . I knew.” Her voice faded, and she continued to stare straight ahead.

  Ray let the moments pass in silence and simply waited. Whatever was coming seemed a lot worse.

  “My father became obsessed with money after that—something I never understood because he already had plenty of it. But nevertheless, that’s what he pursued. I’ve always been stubborn and strong-willed, so from that day on I vowed to ignore him and basically gave him the cold shoulder. He’d put me into the trust of Nann
y Louise and didn’t bother to care what happened to me, anyway. This went on until I was sixteen years old. Then, all of a sudden, he acted like he cared about what happened to me. He tried to convince me to host dinners for him so he could introduce me to his business partners, but I refused. I’m ashamed of how I acted toward him, but I was so angry.

  “This went on for more than a year. I found out later that since I didn’t cooperate, he’d started to negotiate with men—wealthy men who would make advantageous business alliances with him—to marry me. All in all, there were six men who had contracts with my father to marry me. All of them had paid substantial amounts of money or offered up real estate for this arrangement, with a promise from my father to bring them in on his holdings. When he told me about the contracts, I told him that I would never marry because he told me to, so he could just forget about his arrangements.”

  “I take it he didn’t like that very much.” Ray couldn’t imagine a father doing that to his daughter, even though he knew it was common practice to arrange marriages that would benefit both parties financially in his social circle.

  “Oh no. He was furious. He threatened to take away the house, servants, all my clothes, jewelry, everything, so that I would be destitute if I didn’t go along with his plan. In his rage, he told me he didn’t care which one I married, but I would marry one of them. I have no idea how he planned to get away with stealing everyone else’s money, whether it was a competition or what, because I definitely couldn’t marry all of them. But what he hadn’t anticipated was that I didn’t care a lick about any of it. Being destitute was better than being sold off to the highest bidder.

  “Of course, I didn’t tell him that. I stormed off to my wing of the estate, and I already had come up with a plan. I had simply been waiting for the right moment. I had a small bag packed with the plainest clothes I had and shoved as many pieces of jewelry as I could in with them, knowing I could sell them along the way. I’d had several wigs made, and I purchased spectacles. It was the best way I could disguise myself. The only piece of my former life I brought with me was a box that was my grandmother’s, in which I’d kept some special mementos. I left that night.

  “I knew my father was in his study. Most nights he stayed in there working and would eventually fall asleep. He’d told me who was coming—the man who was first in line in his little competition. As I was leaving, though, I saw Mr. Wellington arrive. It was the perfect opportunity to leave, since my father was occupied. I left and never turned back.”

  She paused in the story, but Ray sensed there was more. A lot more.

  As the silence stretched, she fidgeted with her fingers.

  He placed his hand on top of hers, and she made eye contact for the first time since she’d started the story.

  “I’m here.” He squeezed her hand. “If you need to take a break, I understand.”

  She blinked several times, the guarded look in her eyes fading. “Thank you.” She gripped his hand between her own, and her hands ceased their movement.

  She took a long, shuddering breath and continued. “I headed west. Armed with the knowledge I’d learned at our table when Mr. Fred Harvey would visit, part of my plan was to become a Harvey Girl. His stories had always captivated me, so I thought, why not? I knew enough about how he did things that I knew I could be a quick study. I also knew the basics of how to go about getting hired. I couldn’t go by my real name anymore, but I had my grandmother’s birth record. You see, I was named after her: Emma Grace. Her name by birth was Edwards. So, I changed the birth year and took that into the Harvey office when I went to be interviewed. I also forged glowing recommendation letters based off ones I remembered Mr. Harvey talking about, ones they’d received for girls wanting to become Harvey Girls. The next day, they gave me an employment card and I started the training.”

  “That explains how you became a waitress. It seems that you enjoy what you do.”

  “I do. It’s been my saving grace. Kept me busy and kept my mind off . . . ” She shut her mouth and closed her eyes for a moment, and he was content to watch her silhouette and wait in the quiet of the evening. He enjoyed the feel of his hand in hers and didn’t want their conversation to end, even though he imagined it was difficult for her to open up.

  “I left out a big detail.” She let out a long breath. “After I left Boston, I picked up a newspaper a couple days later and discovered that my father had been murdered the night I left.”

  In that moment, a faint memory came to the surface. Dad had been furious because his friend was dead. Something about a business deal?

  Her chin dipped and he couldn’t see her face. “They never caught the man. At least as far as I know. But I saw Mr. Wellington entering my father’s study that night.

  “I’m so sorry, Emma Grace.” He tilted his head and tried to catch her gaze. “Maybe it wasn’t Wellington who killed him. After you left, it could have been anyone.”

  She bit her lip as she looked up at him. “Why? Unless they could get a hold of his money, what was the motive? It had to be Wellington. . . .” Tears shimmered in her eyes and she looked away.

  “I don’t know.” He scooted closer to her and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things worse.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “I don’t know what to think anymore.”

  He watched her for several moments, seeing the turmoil play out over her face. What it must have been like to carry this around for all these years. “Tell me the rest.”

  She turned her face back toward him and gave a slight nod. “I got in contact with a solicitor—Mr. Scott—who my grandfather trusted, and he told me what he knew of the situation, but he also informed me that all those men who had held contracts with my father were now demanding legal action. Of course, all the men with signed contracts want their money returned, but they also want their hands on my father’s estate, which is why they signed the contracts in the first place.”

  With another deep breath, her shoulders lifted a little. “Since I was nowhere to be found, things were messy. And if I don’t show up for fourteen years, they could declare me dead. Which, at the time, I thought was what I wanted. But Mr. Scott told me that Mr. Wellington is relentless and would stop at nothing short of finding me. And unless I marry someone else, he has the law behind him. For five years, I’ve transferred from Harvey House to Harvey House, changing my hair and my appearance as much as I could, hoping that no one could trace me. It wasn’t until just recently, after I came here, that I felt I might be able to look forward to the future.

  “And at this point, I want it all over with. I just don’t know if I’m brave enough to come forward and tell the truth. Would I even be able to put it all behind me? If it was Wellington who killed my father, isn’t it safe to assume that he’ll come after me? That is . . . if he hasn’t found me already.”

  Ray looked down at the notes that he’d let fall to the ground. “You don’t have any idea who sent those?”

  “No.”

  He bent down and picked them up. “Does anyone else here know about your secret?”

  “Ruth and Mr. Owens. There have been a couple telegrams of late. One was from someone who knew Mr. Owens and said there was some unpleasant man going around to Harvey Houses looking for Emma Grace McMurray. That was when I told them the truth. Another telegram came this morning, simply looking for a woman named Emma Grace.” Her gaze shifted to her lap. “It was from a man who claimed to be a Pinkerton agent. He said my life was at stake but not to let me know about his inquiry.”

  “What did Mr. Owens do?”

  “He said he wouldn’t respond. But it does make me worry. And at this point, the nightmares, the fear, and the all-around uneasiness has made me miserable.”

  “You’ve been having nightmares?” Ray’s heart felt like it would wrench in two at all this lady had gone through.

  “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be telling you all of this. We’ve only known each other a few weeks.” She stood and rubb
ed her forehead.

  He immediately missed her presence, he reached toward her and beckoned her back. “Please, don’t apologize. It means a great deal that you trusted me enough to share it with me. I know that wasn’t easy.” She inched closer and he took her hands in his. “Let me help you carry this burden. I want to.” Had he gone too far? But his heart longed for more. Even after the shock of all she’d told him. If anything, he cared even more for her. Would do anything for her.

  A shimmer of tears made the sadness in her eyes more pronounced. “I’m tired, Ray. For the first time in a long time, I want to live my life. But I don’t know if I can.”

  15

  You told me last night that your faith changed everything for you,” Emma Grace continued. “I can’t stop thinking about that. What was it exactly that helped you understand faith?” The pleading in her voice edged on desperation.

  It was getting close to curfew time for Emma Grace, but Ray couldn’t let her leave without saying what was on his heart. He understood how she felt.

  “I don’t have all the answers, but I’m hoping you’ll hear me out.”

  Her eyes were filled with sadness, but he prayed he could change that. She sat back down beside him and turned to look at him this time. “Of course.”

  “Well, as I got to know Reverend James, he took me through the Gospels over several weeks, trying to explain it all to me in terms I could understand. One night, he showed me Mark chapter five, verse thirty-six. At the end of the verse, it says, ‘Be not afraid, only believe.’”

  He let his gaze go back down to her hands, and he captured hers between his own. “You see, in my eagerness to learn all I could, I had apparently tried to make it harder than it actually is. I thought for sure that I wasn’t good enough, that I didn’t deserve grace and mercy. There must be more to it, right?”