A Deep Divide

by Kimberley Woodhouse

  “Don’t look at me like that. Just because she was a waitress doesn’t mean I don’t care for her safety.”

  At this point, Ray didn’t care that his father’s behavior was odd. All he cared about was finding Emma Grace.

  21

  After a sleepless night, the search had continued. Now as the sun dipped lower in the west, he fought to keep a positive attitude. The day had been the longest of Ray’s life.

  But no one had seen Emma Grace.

  Ray paced the carpet in the rotunda outside the manager’s office. They’d made hundreds of calls. Sent telegrams. The police had come. The sheriff just shook his head.

  Nothing.

  No clues.

  A horrible cloud hung over the entire hotel. Several groups had prayed on and off all day. Search parties came in and out.

  Lord, where is she? Please . . . help us find her.

  Mr. Owens rushed out of his office, an envelope in his hand. “Mr. Watkins, do you know where the sheriff went?”

  “I’m here.” The sheriff’s voice echoed through the Rendezvous Room.

  Ray stared at the manager. “What is it?”

  The man held out the note. “This came in the mail. It’s addressed to me and Mr. Scott.”

  The solicitor for Emma Grace’s family? That was odd. Ray took it and read,

  I have Miss McMurray. If you want her returned safely, then you must pay half a million dollars by four o’clock today. I will be in touch with instructions.

  Ray’s heart sank. “Someone has kidnapped her?” After all Emma Grace had been through, she had to endure another kidnapping? Would they hurt her? Or were they only after the money?

  “Let me see if we can get anything from the letter.” The sheriff took the paper and envelope. He turned to Ray. “Who do you suppose the kidnappers are trying to get the ransom out of?”

  Wellington stood up from a chair in the Rendezvous Room. “I’ll gladly pay the ransom.”

  “So will I.” Ray stood tall.

  The sheriff looked between the two. “We will need to leave for Williams on the next train if you have any chance of making it to the bank.”

  “Of course. Let me run upstairs and speak to my father. I’ll meet you at the train.”

  The sheriff nodded and went back to speak to Mr. Owens.

  Ray took the stairs three at a time as he raced to the top floor. Father would have to be okay with them paying the ransom. There was no way that Ray would allow his dad to say no. Not when Emma Grace’s life was at stake.

  He ran down the hall to their rooms and saw the Pinkerton man outside his father’s door.

  Mr. Samson was knocking. “Mr. Watkins, I just need to speak with you.”

  Dad’s voice was muffled behind the door. “Go away.”

  Ray didn’t have time for one of his father’s episodes right now. “Mr. Samson, I have a key. Allow me.” He unlocked the door and opened it.

  Dad rushed over to the corner and crouched down with his hands over his head.

  “What’s wrong? Mr. Samson isn’t here to hurt you.” Ray watched as sheer terror washed over his father’s face. “Dad. It’s me. Ray.” He held out his hands.

  But his father curled up onto his side like a small child. “I didn’t mean to kill him. . . . I didn’t . . .”

  Her eyelids were so heavy.

  Emma Grace forced them to lift. But it took several tries.

  It was dark, except for the embers of a dying fire in front of her. Where was she? Taking several seconds to blink and look around her, the only conclusion she could come to was that she was in some sort of cave. The rock walls around her glowed orange in the firelight.

  Her arms ached, and when she tried to move them, she found they were bound to her sides. She felt around with her fingers and discovered she was tied to something rough and rigid. But then a piece crumbled off. Bark? Looking over her shoulder, she noted it appeared to be a large log. Pulling forward with all her might, she tried to lift it. But it was too heavy.

  Her stomach rumbled. And her lips were dry and cracked. She was so thirsty.

  How long had she been here?

  What happened?

  She’d gone back to her room after her walk with Ray. It had been such a weird day. She hadn’t wanted to talk about Wellington, her father, or anything having to do with her past. But then they’d had nothing of importance to talk about. They’d finally decided to get some rest and start fresh tomorrow.

  What had happened after that?

  She couldn’t remember. Everything was fuzzy after she said good-night to Ruth. Wait. She’d gotten up in the middle of the night to use the water closet. Did she go back to her room?

  What day was it? Her head ached and a chill ran through her. If the fire went out, would she freeze to death? In only her nightclothes and dressing gown, the possibility was real and made her shiver again.

  As fear raced through her veins, she shut her eyes. God, I need Your help. I’m scared.

  No other words would come. But she knew God understood. If she didn’t make it out of this alive, she had peace about where she was going. But it would be hard for all the others. And she didn’t want any of them to suffer because of her.

  Her only regret was Ray. If only she’d allowed herself to truly open up to him and tell him how she felt. He was a good man. She saw that completely now.

  If she could go back and do it all over again, she’d open her heart to him and dream of a future. A future filled with family and . . . love.

  Staring at the flames, her eyes became heavy.

  It was so cold. And she was so tired.

  22

  You didn’t mean to kill who?” Ray knelt next to his father.

  “McMurray. But I didn’t mean to.” He shoved a finger at Mr. Samson. “That’s why he’s here. To come take me away.”

  Ray shared a glance with the Pinkerton. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”

  Agent Samson shrugged. “I have no idea. But now I’m curious.” The agent stepped toward Dad. “Mr. Watkins, are you saying that you killed Miss McMurray’s father?”

  Dad’s eyes darted back and forth. “Where is Henry? I need Henry.”

  Ray put a hand on his father’s arm. “Dad, Henry isn’t here. You need to answer the question.”

  Dad got up off the floor and ran a hand through his hair, his eyes wild. “No . . . no.” He wagged his finger. “You can’t blame me for the investors. When the ransom comes, I’ll pay it all back.”

  Ray stepped closer. No. His own father couldn’t have anything to do with Emma Grace’s disappearance or her father’s murder . . . could he? Adrenaline surged through him and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest. “What did you just say?”

  “Don’t speak to me in that tone, son. It’s all taken care of.”

  “Dad. Do you know where Emma Grace is?”

  The older man lifted his chin. “Of course I know where she is.”

  Ray surged forward and grabbed his father by the shoulders. “Where is she?”

  But Dad crumpled to the floor and put his hands to his head. “My head! Don’t hurt me!”

  An hour later, Ray sat with the sheriff in the manager’s office and tried to make sense of it all. The words had tumbled out of his dad in a tangled mishmash of information. His father had been stealing from his own investors—even though he’d amassed quite a fortune for himself. Apparently, he’d made some bad decisions lately and lost a lot of money. But he couldn’t bear to lose the status of being Chicago’s richest.

  And when he saw the photos of Harvey’s priceless collection at the Hopi House? He put plans in place to steal it all and sell it. Ray wouldn’t even be surprised if his father’s men were the ones responsible, just like with the jewelry theft. His men had been stealing all over the country, apparently.

  But that was just the beginning. His father had been involved with Emma Grace’s father all the way back to the railroad spur negotiations. When she’d been kidn
apped. And then, supposedly, the two men had negotiated way back when to arrange a marriage between their children to join the empires.

  But when Ray’s dad had lunch with a friend back in Chicago who then bragged about signing a contract with McMurray to marry his daughter, Dad went to confront him. McMurray had told him he could get in on the running if he wanted to, but he wasn’t first in line. Ray’s dad pushed him in anger, and the man had hit his head and died.

  Ray took a deep breath. “I’m shocked, sir. I knew my father was not behaving rationally. I even have the telegram from his physician at home, but I had no idea he was capable of any of this.”

  “As soon as he tells us where Miss Edwards—er, Miss McMurray—is, I’ll have to take him to the jail. Then he will have to be transported back to Boston to face charges there.”

  “I understand that.” Ray put his head in his hands. But Dad hadn’t said anything for a while, not after his hysterics when Ray and Mr. Samson had been in his room. John was with him now, along with two of the sheriff’s men, hoping to calm him enough to get information on Emma Grace’s location. But what if he didn’t tell them in time?

  He wanted to throttle his father. But he also knew his father was very sick. From one minute to the next, he couldn’t tell if his father was in reality or some invented world.

  As his anger built, Ray closed his eyes. No. That wasn’t right. It wasn’t how God wanted him to handle the situation. Fear and anxiety weren’t from the Lord. Anger toward his father’s actions wouldn’t find Emma Grace, and it wouldn’t fix anything. His dad needed help.

  Ray decided then and there he wouldn’t allow the negative thoughts to prevail. Instead, he bowed his head and prayed.

  Shuffling sounded around him, and he felt the presence of others, but he continued to pour his heart out to the Lord. Someone laid a hand on his right shoulder. Then one on the left. His soul lifted as he felt the prayers of others.

  Several minutes later, footsteps rushed toward them. Ray lifted his head and saw Ruth and Frank were seated with him. He turned and saw the sheriff’s men.

  “We know where she is. Let’s hope we’re not too late.”

  Curling her legs up into the tightest ball she could form, Emma Grace shivered and watched as the last embers of the fire died and turned to black. Her head felt like it was in a fog. How long had she been here? At the edges of her memory, she’d thought someone had come back several times. But she’d been asleep each time. Had she dreamed it? Maybe they’d come to tend to the fire? To check and make sure she was still tied up?

  But she was awake now. And there wasn’t a fire to tend anymore. She was so cold.

  This was it then. No light. No heat. No way to escape.

  Her arms had gone numb from their awkward position. And her fingers felt like ice. She couldn’t even feel the roughness of the log behind her anymore.

  For the first time in her life, she wasn’t scared of death.

  But for the first time in her life, she truly wanted to live.

  Maybe that was what that verse in Philippians meant. . . . to live is Christ, and to die is gain.

  Funny how things finally made sense to her. Too bad she didn’t get a chance to tell Ray how she felt about him. Or to thank Ruth for her friendship—real friendship.

  What would it have been like to work here the rest of her life and have a family with her co-workers? What would it have been like to be free from her past and her father’s contracts? Free to marry whom she wished?

  Tucking her forehead down to her knees, she blew her breath into the thin fabric, hoping it would thaw out her nose and cheeks.

  Frank had reminded her to thank God when she prayed. Well, she could be thankful now, couldn’t she?

  “God, I’m not very good at praying yet . . . but I’m hoping it’s all right to just speak to You like this. Thank You for taking care of me and bringing me to El Tovar. Thank You for introducing me to Mr. Harvey all those years ago. Without him, I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t have met Ruth, Frank, Ray, and all the girls.”

  As each face came to mind, she prayed for each of the Harvey Girls. Women she’d come to love and respect. Caroline’s vibrant smile flashed across her mind. “Father, please heal her and help her to know she is forgiven. Please make a way for her younger brother to get the care that he needs.” She let out another long breath as her thoughts went back to the man who’d captured her heart. “Thank You for giving me the chance to meet Ray.”

  As she thought about the man she’d come to care deeply for, her throat clogged. Neither one of them had the best examples growing up, but somehow, God’s love had still shone through.

  That was what it was all about, wasn’t it? The love of God. It transcended time, social class, circumstances . . . all of it.

  A smile grew on her chapped lips. Nothing else really mattered.

  Soon she would be in her Savior’s arms. And there couldn’t be anything better than that.

  “Emma Grace . . .” Someone was rubbing her hair back from her face. “Emma . . . please . . . it’s me. Please wake up.”

  But the darkness pressed in. She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes.

  “Don’t go back to sleep. We need you awake.” The voice was soothing and made her feel warm inside. Who was that?

  Sleep was the only thing she wanted right now. It was so comforting.

  “Emma Grace.” The man’s voice was firmer now. “Don’t you leave me. We have our whole lives ahead of us. This entire canyon to explore.” He choked up.

  His words tugged at her heart. She wanted to wake up. She did. But how?

  Then there were warm lips on her forehead. “Please wake up.”

  She shivered and opened her eyes. A fuzzy outline appeared. Then her heart kicked into high gear as she recognized him, and her mind broke out of the fog. “Ray!”

  The pathetic squeak of Emma Grace’s voice was all he needed to spur him forward. She was alive. Alive! Thank You, God.

  Her eyes fluttered and closed again as she went limp in his arms. Placing his cheek next to her chilled one, he whispered in her ear. “Stay with me. You’re safe now. I . . . I love you.”

  Tears stung his eyes as his throat threatened to close on the last words. He loved this woman with all his heart, and he wasn’t about to let her die here. Not like this. Not at the hands of his own father. He couldn’t imagine what had made Dad do something so horrific.

  Money. Always about the money. Dad had jumped at the chance for more . . . and it made Ray sick to his stomach. The only consolation he had was that the older man’s mind was slipping, and he wasn’t the man Ray had known anymore. But the sheriff and his men would have a doozy of a time rounding up all the men his father had hired. What else had he ordered them to do? Had Ray stopped the madness in time, so that no one else would be hurt?

  “Ray!” More footsteps sounded behind him and the sheriff entered the cave out of breath. “You found her. She’s alive?”

  “Yes, but barely. She’s chilled to the bone.”

  “Give him a blanket.” The sheriff waved at one of his men. “I thought for sure we’d go tumbling down the side of the canyon at the pace you were going.” The man sucked in great big gulps of air and relief filled his voice.

  “Can’t keep a man from the woman he loves.” One of the sheriff’s men handed over a blanket with a smile.

  Ray worked at the knots in the rope around Emma Grace’s hands. Her body was completely limp against his, and it broke his heart. How long had she been without food and water? She’d been missing for two whole days. Had Dad left her here this whole time?

  He wrapped the blanket around her and lifted her up into his arms. Ray nodded at the men who’d come down with him.

  The sheriff eyed him. “The trek back up is going to be grueling. Should I get one of my men to fetch a litter or pallet of some sort?”

  Ray shook his head. “No. That’s not necessary. I’ll carry her.”

  No matter how long i
t took or how much his legs ached, he would never let her go. Ever again.

  Epilogue

  FOUR MONTHS LATER

  BOSTON

  Emma Grace signed her name at the bottom of each page. Ray sat on one side of her in the fancy lawyer’s vast office, while Mr. Scott sat on the other. “I think that’s everything.” She set the pen down. Her parents’ estate was sold, and now the company was too. She was finally free of it all.

  Mr. Wellington stood on the other side of the shiny mahogany table. “Thank you, Miss McMurray. I promise that I will do my very best to take care of your father’s company.”

  She shook her head. “It’s your company now. But thank you for doing the honorable thing.” It still amazed her that the man hadn’t demanded marriage, even though legally he could have. On top of that, he’d repaid all the other contracts in addition to buying everything from her. At first, it had seemed too good to be true, but Mr. Scott had convinced her that there truly were some good and decent men left in the world. A fact that she was coming to understand better and better each day.

  She turned to Ray. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. Thank you for coming to find me.”

  “You mean the first time I came into the El Tovar dining room? Or in the cave?”

  “Both.” She placed her hand on the side of his face. Who cared what anyone thought about the public display of affection. She loved this man.

  The deep fondness in his eyes made her heart leap. Just like it had when he’d come to the cave and gently untied her hands, lifted her in his arms, and carried her to safety.

  Ray Watkins was a good man.

  “I hope you know by now that I will do anything for you. I love you.” He leaned forward and squeezed her hand.

  “I love you too.” She stood and the men stood with her. With a nod to Wellington and then the other board members seated around the table, she lifted her chin. “Gentlemen, thank you for seeing this through for me. I know everything is in good hands. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m anxious to get back home.”