Tracie Peterson - [Desert Roses 01]

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by Shadows of the Canyon




  © 2002 by Tracie Peterson

  Published by Bethany House Publishers

  11400 Hampshire Avenue South

  Bloomington, Minnesota 55438

  www.bethanyhouse.com

  Bethany House Publishers is a division of

  Baker Publishing Group, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

  www.bakerpublishinggroup.com

  Ebook edition created 2011

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the publisher and copyright owners. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

  ISBN 978-1-4412-0329-8

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.

  Cover design by Koechel Peterson & Associates

  With thanks to Jeanne Schick for her help with this project. You answered my questions faithfully and patiently and that meant the world to me. I appreciate your sweet spirit and kindness.

  Also thanks goes to Janice Griffith at the Old Trails Museum in Winslow, Arizona, for her help with details related to the Harvey Girls. I appreciate your depth of knowledge on the subject and your willingness to help me.

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title page

  Copyright page

  Dedication

  Chapter one

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Other Books by Author

  CHAPTER ONE

  EL TOVAR HOTEL, GRAND CANYON, 1923

  “And in here,” Alexandria Keegan announced, “are the bulk refrigerator storage areas.” Alex stepped past the new Harvey House recruit and opened the door to the unit. “We keep all manner of fresh produce, fish, and . . .” She fell silent as she heard the new girl gasp.

  “Oh, Miss Keegan,” the girl said, blushing red and turning away.

  Alex couldn’t imagine what the problem was, for the girl looked positively mortified. Turning to look into the unit, Alex fully expected to see a dead rat on the floor. Such a distasteful occurrence didn’t happen often, but there was that rare occasion when something unpleasant marred the Harvey restaurant’s otherwise impeccable reputation.

  Alex grimaced at the scene. It was a rat, all right. But this rat was the two-legged type. Worse still, this rat was her father.

  Rufus Keegan, well-known for his philandering ways, was at it once again. Pressed into a compromising position in the corner of the room, one of the newer Harvey Girls appeared to be enjoying Rufus Keegan’s lack of discretion.

  Alex felt her cheeks grow hot as embarrassment washed over her. How many times would she have to endure this shame upon her family? How could her father just go on humiliating her mother like this, never concerning himself with the pain he caused? Alex felt tears come to her eyes at the thought of all her mother had endured.

  “Bernice, please go to the main dining room and bring Mrs. Godfrey.” Alex steadied her emotions. She knew it would be better to have the dining room manager and housemother take charge of the situation.

  Bernice, whose face was nearly as red as her bobbed hair, hurried off down the corridor. Alex turned to find her father smoothing the wrinkles in his clothing.

  “Do you never tire of bringing shame to our family?” Alex asked, her voice a deadly calm.

  “There needn’t be any shame if you keep your mouth shut. Honestly, Alexandria, I don’t see why you concern yourself with matters that have little to do with you.”

  Alex forced herself to remain silent and looked past her father to Melina Page. The girl was clearly embarrassed, but she didn’t appear overly worried as she adjusted her black Harvey uniform.

  “You should gather your things, Melina. I’m certain Mrs. Godfrey will have no further use for you,” Alex said, staring hard at the girl.

  “But you said you’d keep me from getting fired,” Melina said, turning to Rufus. He only shrugged and chuckled. “But you promised!” Melina’s voice raised an octave.

  “He promised my mother a great many things, as well,” Alex said. “But so far, he doesn’t seem to honor any of those promises, either.” Without conscious thought, Alex reached for the closest object—a plump, ripe, California tomato. “You are without a doubt everything the newspapers say about you and more. I’m ashamed to call you Father.”

  “Then don’t. And don’t take that tone with me. You don’t have to call me Father or even acknowledge me as such, but I won’t take a dressing down by the likes of you or anyone else. I don’t take that tone of voice from the governor of this state! What makes you think I’ll take it from my daughter?”

  Shame was quickly overcome by anger, as years of betrayal seemed to culminate in this one act. Without warning, Alex threw the tomato. She picked up another tomato and then another. Hurling them mindlessly at her father, she shouted a tirade of disapproval.

  “You don’t care anything about my mother. You’ve caused her nothing but shame and anguish. Her health suffers because of you and she has no friends because you can’t even give the pretense of discretion.”

  The ripe tomatoes splattered against the wall, against Melina’s dress, and against the stun-faced Keegan.

  Uncaring about the mess she was making or the vegetables she might destroy, Alex only knew that she wanted to hurt her father as badly as he’d hurt her mother. “We’ve suffered so much because of you. Mother can’t even go to church for fear of what will be said to her!”

  “Miss Keegan!”

  The voice of Mrs. Godfrey caused Alex to pause. She looked momentarily at the confused woman, then picked up an apple. “My father and Melina chose to make this their trysting place.” She hurled the apple, which her father barely managed to dodge before it hit the back wall with a dull thud.

  Mrs. Godfrey reached out to Alex. Her grasp on Alex’s left hand did nothing to waylay her from securing another apple with her right. This time she aimed for Melina.

  “He doesn’t deserve to get away with this.” Alex nearly screamed the words, not caring who heard.

  “Hey, what’s happening? I heard the hollering going on all the way down the . . .”

  Alex turned, catching sight of Luke Toland. The tall, lanky cowboy had his hat pushed back on his head, his sandy-colored hair hanging down over his left brow. He appeared shocked to say the least, but Alex could take no more of her father’s indiscretion.

  She jerked away from Mrs. Godfrey and reached again for the nearest object. It just happened to be a large stalk of celery. Before she could throw it, however, Luke stepped in and took hold of her.

  “I don’t know what’s happenin
g here, but I’m sure throwing this celery isn’t going to remedy the matter.” He spoke softly and eyed Alex with grave concern. His gentleness was her undoing, and her tears overflowed as she collapsed against his chest and began to cry.

  “He doesn’t care how much he hurts us,” she sobbed.

  “Miss Page, please pick up your apron and follow me,” Mrs. Godfrey commanded. “Your services will no longer be required by the Fred Harvey Company.”

  “But Mr. Keegan said . . .”

  Alex lifted her gaze as Mrs. Godfrey frowned disapprovingly. “It doesn’t matter what Mr. Keegan said. You are in my charge, and we do not tolerate this kind of behavior.”

  Melina began to cry as she passed by Alex, apron in hand. “But I need this job. I—”

  “You should have thought about that before you lowered your standards of decency,” Mrs. Godfrey said, leading the weeping girl from the room and down the hall.

  “Perhaps if everyone lowered their standards a bit,” Rufus Keegan suggested in a loud voice, “we wouldn’t find ourselves answering to uptight virgins and sour old biddies.”

  Alex twisted in Luke’s arms and started to charge for her father, wanting only to scratch the smug look off his face and clean the air of his vile words. Luke held her tight, however, and no matter how she tried to fight his hold, her actions were futile.

  “Alex,” Luke whispered against her ear, “it won’t do any good. He doesn’t care.”

  Alex grew still in his arms. She looked over her shoulder, his face so close it nearly touched her own. Turning back to her father, she felt her rage further ignite at the expression on his face.

  “I see this wrangler knows how to handle you. Good for you, son.” Keegan smoothed the sides of his mustache and trailed the stroke down to his chin. “You know, maybe if you’d spend more time keeping hold of her, teaching her the more pertinent things of life,” he grinned and approached Alex and Luke with confident strides, “she’d be a whole lot happier and maybe even more cooperative.” He paused as he passed by the couple. “See, I’ve always found that women were fairly easy to control so long as you handled them just right. Handle her with a tighter rein, cowboy. Show her who’s the boss. It’s about time she learned what the right man could do for her.”

  Alex drew back as though slapped. She could feel Luke tighten his hold on her arms, but it was the way Luke ground his teeth together that told her he’d reached his own limits with this conversation.

  Reaching up to touch Luke’s hand, Alex watched her father saunter down the hallway. “Like you said, Luke, he doesn’t care.”

  “I want to put my fist through his face,” Luke growled, his grasp becoming painful to Alex.

  “You’re hurting me, Luke,” she said, patting his hand. He released her immediately. Alex turned and looked at her dearest friend in all the world. “Thanks for keeping me from making too big of a spectacle.”

  Luke’s expression seemed to soften as he turned to look Alex in the face. “Your pitching arm needs some work,” he said with a grin. Gone was the look of rage that had just been there. Alex could see his shoulders relax.

  Turning back to look at the mess she’d created, Alex shook her head. “I couldn’t help myself. I saw him doing those unspeakable things and shaming my mother, and all I wanted to do was hurt him.” She looked back at Luke. “I wanted to hurt him like he was hurting me . . . hurting her.”

  Alex felt the tears smart her eyes again. “I try so hard to be a good Christian—to keep an attitude that would be pleasing to God—but then something like this happens. Oh, Luke, I can’t take much more. How can I respect a man who so clearly does not deserve such honor? My mother has been hurt so much. What if she finds out what Father has done here today? Now her health has been suffering. I want to take her away from all of this, but she won’t go.”

  “Why not?”

  Alex shrugged. “She says she could never make it on her own—that Father would strip her of everything but the clothes on her back. She won’t saddle her daughters with this, either. My sister, Audra, has offered to have Mother come live with her and her family in Wyoming, but Mother says it isn’t right. But, Luke, it isn’t right that she suffer this humiliation every time Father decides to chase after the newest Harvey Girl or hotel maid. It seems he’s exhausted his possibilities in Williams, so now he’s come here to the canyon and El Tovar. Soon there won’t be a skirt in Arizona he hasn’t tried to claim for his own. The management here is livid that Father would besmirch their good name.”

  “Why don’t they forbid him entry?” Luke questioned. “After all, this is a luxury resort with plenty of important people. It’s not like your father owns the place.”

  “No, but his political power and money keeps everyone hopping from here to Phoenix. He can pay off those who don’t like his actions and cajole everyone else into doing things his way. Only the newspaper editor in Williams gives him a hard time, and that’s because the owner has just as much clout as Father.”

  “I’m sorry, Alex.”

  She looked up at him, knowing he was sincere. He’d always treated her kindly in the four years since she’d come to work as a Harvey Girl at El Tovar. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Luke. Thank you for keeping me from making a complete fool of myself.”

  Luke grinned. “Need some help cleaning up?”

  She shook her head. “No. I think the time alone will help me to cool off.”

  “That and closing the door,” Luke motioned.

  Alex had completely forgotten that they were allowing all the cold air to escape. “I should have never opened the door to begin with. Poor Bernice. She’s the new girl. I was showing her around and . . . Well, the rest is pretty apparent. Anyway, I’d better get back to work. Seems like I’m always cleaning up my father’s garbage.”

  “I really would be happy to help you. I’m done for the day and was just coming in to get a bite to eat.” He seemed so eager to please her and the look on his face suggested a hopefulness that Alex couldn’t ignore.

  Alex patted his arm. “No. You’ve done more than anyone should have to do. Go eat your supper. You’re a good friend, Luke.” The look of pleasure left his face and was replaced with an expression of disappointment.

  “Fine,” he said and walked away without another word.

  Alex shook her head at the hangdog manner in which he departed. Why should he be disappointed? She was saving him a great deal of messy work. Men! They were impossible to understand.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Luke wasn’t in the mood for supper, still disgusted by the scene he’d stumbled upon in the back rooms of El Tovar’s kitchen. He was also more than a little disturbed by Alex’s continual use of the word friend.

  He wanted to be more than Alex’s friend. Four years of friendship had taught him that, if nothing else. He’d fallen in love with her somewhere along the way, but he couldn’t put his finger on when that had exactly happened. Leaving the hotel, Luke headed down the rim path and sought solace in privacy. He ambled along just a little ways past the Lookout, a rustic creation where they offered telescopes to better view the scenic gorge.

  Having spent the last ten years of his life wrangling horses and leading mule teams on various trips in the area, Luke knew the Grand Canyon like the back of his hand. He loved the canyon, and now, as he often did, Luke stared out across the vast wasteland and wondered at the glory of it all.

  The sun was just starting to set in the western skies, sending slivers of orange and gold into the turquoise blue sky. The sky reminded him of Alex’s eyes—eyes just the perfect shade of turquoise, with long dark lashes that, at times, gave her face a doll-like appearance. He’d memorized every inch, every feature of her face—from the high cheekbones and dark brows, to the straight nose that seemed to turn up just a bit at the tip. Her lips were full and touched with a natural blush of rosy pink that no cosmetic could ever match.

  “If I ain’t the lovesick cowboy,” he muttered, kicking a stone
over the edge. He watched the rock zigzag first this way and then that as it bounced off the rocky sentinels below.

  The shadows stretched out and played games with the appearance of the canyon. The colors changed before his eyes, and only the laughter and voices from tourists strolling El Tovar’s grounds reminded Luke he was not alone.

  It was 1923 and this national park was getting more than its fair share of attention. Trains came twice a day, and sometimes more than that on special occasions. The cars were always filled with curious passengers who longed to see what the canyon could offer them. Few ever realized the true gift of such a majestic sight—the way the solitude could speak to their soul on a starry night, how the rush of the wind and the hum of the canyon bottom river combined to make a haunting calliope sound, or the way the scent of piñon and juniper joined with the fresh western breeze after a welcome rain.

  Luke sighed. Those were the things that made this home to him. They were the wonders that made this part of Arizona a mystery to most and a heartwarming pleasure to others.

  Taking off his hat, Luke wiped his brow and thought of all the changes in his life since coming to the canyon. He’d been a scrawny kid of twenty when he’d shown up looking for a job. He’d heard great things about this place all the way down in Tucson, where he’d been working as a ranch hand. He had been told the opportunity could net a man a great deal of money—enough money to start his own ranch after a year or two of work.

  Luke hadn’t found it quite that easy, but he had managed to set aside a good portion of his pay. While some of the other men went to Williams to spend their pay anytime they were given time off, Luke had spent his free hours at the canyon. He’d studied and educated himself on the flora and wildlife. He knew the area so well he could tell his way around in the dark . . . Well, almost.

  The unmistakable sound of Alex’s voice filtered through the air to reach his ears. Replacing his hat, Luke looked up to find Alex pointing the way toward El Tovar and saying something to the tourists who had stopped her. No doubt her shift had ended, and she was taking a walk to forget the scene in the cooler.

 

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