Chapter 15

fifteen

"What a wonder, the bursting forth of unnumbered myriads of leaves and flowers. The plum and apple trees are in their bridal robes and the air is laden with sweet odors."

~Earl Douglass

T UESDAY , J ULY 25, 1916 · C ARNEGIE I NSTITUTE

Nelson's time in Utah couldn't have gone better. His friend had played his part perfectly, and the newspapers ran with the story.

Miss Mills's reputation would soon be in tatters. But just to make sure, he had another card up his sleeve. His ace in the hole.

Once the obstacle was out of his way, he would win. Everything.

He'd barely lifted a finger to destroy Eliza Mills and her career. No, she managed that on her own, lying about her authorship on her paper. Making her friend, that inane English professor from the university, say he'd written it? He rolled his eyes. Did the man have no self-respect? To let a female wind him around her little finger showed a lack of spine.

Never mind. The professor was none of his concern. And with Miss Mills just a few steps from career destruction, she wouldn't be for long either. His path to power had one last brick to be laid: removing her from the museum staff.

Mr. Carnegie's note to all the employees about being aboveboard and honest in all things had made Nelson smile. The great man's encouragement only reinforced Nelson's plan. No matter how long Carnegie and Mr. Mills had been friends, the philanthropist and wealthy mogul wouldn't dare to keep Eliza Mills employed. Not once Nelson was through with her.

Carnegie would be free of her. And he'd be grateful.

To Nelson.

A knock at his door interrupted his thoughts. "Come!"

Two men shuffled into the room, eyes glued to the floor. A grin lifted his lips. It was good to have junior scientists who actually knew their place on the food chain. Both young men shifted, waiting for him to speak.

"Turner. Lincoln. I appreciate you making time to meet me here. I have a proposition for you. Please, sit." He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.

They did as told and finally looked up at him. "Thank you for inviting us to meet with you, sir." Turner's eyes darted from side to side.

"Yes, it's an honor, sir," Lincoln echoed, locking eyes with him. Good. At least one of them needed a bit of backbone for what he had planned.

He steepled his fingers together and took a deep breath. "What I am about to say to you does not leave this room. You are to tell no one of my involvement. You will not speak of my part with anyone. Not your family, friends, and certainly not with each other. Trust me, I will know if you violate this agreement, and it will not go well for you. Is that understood?" At their vigorous nods, he continued. "It has come to my attention that someone has been stealing donor money. Money allocated to erect the many beautiful dinosaur skeletons currently sitting in the preparator's warehouse."

Turner's brow furrowed. "I've not heard of this, sir. To our knowledge, donor funds are flush and—"

"You will speak only when I allow you to. Understood? "

The junior scientist shrank back with a nod.

"Good. Now, as I was saying. This discrepancy has just now come to my attention. And I need to know if there is truth to the rumors. So"—he opened the top right-hand drawer of his desk and pulled out two thick envelopes—"I am offering you each two hundred dollars to find out who is behind this nefarious act. If you catch the culprit, there is another hundred dollars in it for each of you."

The two men exchanged wide-eyed glances, then looked back to him.

"Turner, I'm sure this money will be most helpful for your mother, especially with her poor health of late."

Turner went pale but nodded.

He swung his gaze to the fair-haired Lincoln. "And I know you have a young wife with a baby on the way, correct?"

Lincoln nodded. "I'm sure the extra funds will go a long way toward their comfort this coming winter."

They both grabbed the envelopes. Lincoln shoved his in his coat pocket. Turner clutched his in a white-knuckled fist. "Where do you want us to start?"

He smiled. Truly, it was almost too easy. "Well, I would look first at Miss Eliza Mills. Her department's budget seems to be larger this year than last year. Make sure you are thorough in questioning every expense, deposit, and withdrawal of hers."

Lincoln shifted in his seat. "But we're only juniors here, sir. How can we get this information?"

Since he had already changed the books, they played perfectly into his hands. "Oh"—he waved them off—"don't worry about that. The museum has an open-door policy. I've had her books collected for you. Mr. Carnegie is fastidious when it comes to our generous patrons' donations. And if Miss Mills is abusing those funds, he has every right to know. Make sure you ask all your colleagues if they've heard anything about Miss Mills stealing this money. And take it to the head of finance as well. Leave no stone unturned."

The two men nodded and stood to leave.

"One more thing." He folded his hands on his desk. "If anyone is able to trace this request back to me, I will not only take the money back, but I will ensure you are fired from this museum and never hired again in the field of paleontology."

Turner nodded and practically ran out the door.

Lincoln hesitated. "Why can't they know you are the one instigating this investigation?"

Nelson stood and released what he hoped sounded like a gracious sigh. "My dear young man. You haven't been here long enough to understand the politics involved. I wouldn't want the head of finance getting his nose bent out of shape—or worse, losing his job—because he missed something important." He affected a humble shrug. "I'm simply trying to do what's best for the museum. I had someone come to me in confidence with information about Miss Mills. But because of her family's connection to Mr. Carnegie and their vast wealth, they were afraid of repercussions."

"Oh. I see." Lincoln dipped his chin. "You have my word, sir, I'll do my best." Then he left the office, the door shutting behind him with a sharp click.

There. That was done. No doubt those two would have the rumor mill churning by lunchtime.

What would Miss Mills do when she returned home and found her precious reputation demolished? How would she respond when Mr. Carnegie, furious over the misappropriation of funds, fired her and made sure she would never work in any museum again?

He sighed and leaned back, the leather of his chair creaking with the movement. Oh, watching everything unfold was going to be a joy.

W EDNESDAY , J ULY 26, 1916 · P ITTSBURGH

The evening sun was about to dip below the horizon. Devin watched from his seat on the porch as the last edges of it disappeared and the sky darkened.

The clouds put on a display of color until the remnants of light vanished. The sky became a dusky midnight blue and then deepened to its black cloak speckled with the stars of the universe.

Leaving Eliza had hurt more than he'd ever thought possible. Even worse was the fact that he'd laid his heart on the table.

Why had he ever thought that would be a good idea? While it had given him a brief moment of relief to unburden himself, it had made the good-bye even more wrenching.

When she first said she was coming home with him, he'd gotten his hopes up. Something he never should have done. But he couldn't blame her for changing her mind.

Now that he'd been home a few days, he'd poured all his time and energy into his work at the University. Even added two more classes—literature this time—to teach. That should keep him busy. He might exhaust himself into oblivion, but that would only help keep his thoughts away from Eliza.

He glanced at the stack of papers on the small table to his right.

His latest project. It gave him something to pour himself into when he came home and the long evening hours tempted him to thoughts of her.

Dad had been great. He'd listened. Encouraged. Prayed. Then this morning, he'd promised to not bring Eliza up again. He'd only speak of her if Devin brought it up.

That had been the biggest gift.

If only his heart would get the same message. And his mind. How would he ever get over her if he couldn't stop thinking about her? Devin let out a growl and shoved his hands in his hair.

Maybe he was going insane.

He had to be. He was still writing Eliza. Still expecting a reply. Still lulling himself with the thought that he'd promised he would always be her friend. And friends wrote each other letters. There was no harm.

Ha.

Maybe he should do as he'd said to her and go find a nice, quiet girl to court. Someone who could—over time—help him to love again.

A tap from inside the front door brought him out of his thoughts. He chuckled. "You don't have to knock to come out on the front porch."

The door creaked a bit as Dad poked his head around it. "I brought you some tea. Thought it might help you relax and sleep. You've been burning the candle at both ends."

"Thanks, Dad." He reached for the steaming cup. "Would you like to sit and chat for a while? I could use the company."

"Sure. You know how much I love to look at the stars."

He sipped the hot liquid. Time was so precious. He might not have a lot of years left with his father and he wanted to treasure every one.

Once they were settled in a couple of rocking chairs, Dad took a sip from his mug and put the chair into motion. "What's on your mind?" He didn't look at Devin. Just stared out at the night sky.

"How did you...?" He cleared his throat. Why was it so hard to ask this? "How did you do it, Dad? How did you go on with life ... heal, and mend your broken heart after Mom died?" He began to rock as well. "I mean ... I remember snippets of you crying. I know you were grieving for a long while. But most of my memories are of you strong, smiling, and taking care of me."

Dad rocked for several moments. "Healing only took place after I gave my intense grief over to the Lord. Oh, it was still there. Losing your mother made me want to crawl into the grave and join her. Heaven is a place with no more tears, no more pain." He sighed, his head bobbing with the rocking of his chair. "I desperately wanted to rid myself of the pain and tears. But then, I'd see you. Our incredible son. And I could hear your mother's voice in my mind, telling me to keep going and to take care of you. She always challenged me to find the joy in everything. Whether it was a good situation or a difficult one." He took another sip and fell silent.

Devin studied him for a long time. The man had sacrificed so much to raise him. Never once complaining. Then it hit him.

"So that's why you made me memorize James, chapter one."

"Your mother loved the book of James." Dad didn't smile. He seemed lost in thought. "When you lose someone, son, you are plagued with all the regrets of what you could have done better. All the things left unsaid. I loved your mother with my whole heart, but there were times I was so focused on my work that I neglected her and you. I vowed not to do that with you after she was gone."

Devin reached over and gripped his dad's forearm. "You were always there for me. And I know it was tough, trying to fill the hole she left. Wrangling a young boy who missed his mother."

"I don't know what I would have done if Mr. Mills hadn't hired me to tutor Eliza." Dad's voice was rough and choked. "God truly paved the way with that job." He cleared his throat and paused for several seconds. "I wouldn't have been able to keep up my teaching and taking care of your needs. But God provided. I was able to teach my own son along with their granddaughter, and I wouldn't trade that time with you for all the riches in the world." His father finally looked over at him. Tears pooled in his eyes.

It shook Devin. That Dad would share his heart in this way... "I'm thankful for all you did for me." He whispered the words, fighting his own tears.

Dad stopped the motion of the chair and turned toward him. "I know you said you needed to let Eliza go. And if you truly need to do that, I'm behind you. I promise. But please..." His voice cracked, and he ducked his head for a moment and then lifted it again. "Please pray about it a bit more. Don't give up on a love that may only come once in a lifetime. You still have a chance, son. Eliza is alive. I don't want you to live with regrets." Dad choked up again and stood. "What I wouldn't give for one more day with your mother. I see that same love in your eyes for Eliza. Don't throw it away."

Dad walked into the house and left Devin sitting on the porch.

He'd questioned God a lot about Eliza over the years. About his promise to her grandfather and honoring his word. But no clear answers had come. So he'd taken matters into his own hands. Thinking that it must be the right thing to do...

Lord, did I jump ahead of You?

His gut clenched. Was it selfish to try to guard his own heart because it simply hurt too much to love Eliza knowing it would never be reciprocated? He started. Oh ... wasn't that exactly what he'd accused Eliza of doing? Being afraid?

What a hypocrite he'd been! He buried his face in his hands, heat burning its way up his neck and cheeks. Lord, I told her the truth about her fears and lack of trust. But I couldn't see the same things in me. Forgive me!

He sat back in the chair, his confession bringing no immediate relief. His chest was so tight it was difficult to draw a breath. But a bigger question hit him, the weight of it almost crushing. What if he'd made the wrong decision?

F RIDAY , J ULY 28, 1916 · M EYER R ANCH

The weight of the chisel in her palm was warm and familiar. She rolled the smooth wooden handle back and forth for a moment, joy welling within her. A smile broke out across her face. She had several hours of tedious, backbreaking work ahead of her.

But she didn't care.

She was digging for bones again!

Eliza and Deborah had met out at the ranch every day for the last four days, working on the fossils closest to the surface of the rock. No one had bothered the two of them. Only a few hired hands remained on the ranch—those who believed in Mr. Meyer and didn't believe in any haunting rubbish—and they kept the cattle far away from the dig location.

Deborah told her yesterday that the protestors had finally stopped at the quarry when the sheriff got onto them. Nobody was out there to hear them anyway. Several of the ladies fumed, but they left and hadn't been back. And talk in town finally died down about the newspaper article.

Funny thing about it, Eliza never had to defend herself. Her new pastor, his wife, and Mary had come to visit her at her request. She told them the truth about all that happened and found understanding, forgiveness, and open arms waiting for her. It was a beautiful thing.

Mary even wrote a short and succinct article for their local paper clearing it all up.

The Lord's lovingkindness was overwhelming after the mess Eliza had created. She tapped a chunk of rock and watched it break apart. Just like the burden she'd been carrying for so long. But when she relinquished control and sought Him? The results were amazing. Most important was the peace she felt.

She continued to work her chisel around a rounded bone. It seemed to be a vertebra, but it was so buried in the rock, it might take her weeks to get it out. That was fine. The exacting work kept her occupied and focused. And gave her plenty of time to think.

Devin's confession sat on the edge of her memory, his words rushing through her mind every time she had a quiet moment.

It was becoming ridiculous. Still, his candor was refreshing. It always had been.

How she'd wanted to talk it out with him before he left, but there'd been no time. And now ... now she saw the wisdom in the time and distance between them.

If only that would stop the ache squeezing her heart.

She wiped her hands on her pants and sat back on her heels, glancing around. Where was her canteen? She spotted it next to the small picnic basket Louise had packed for them.

The gesture had been a surprise. Poor Louise was still mourning Devin's departure and would barely speak to Eliza.

In some ways, she admired the young woman. There was a youthful freedom in wearing her heart on her sleeve. Eliza had never possessed that. And she'd started examining why she couldn't or shouldn't be so bold and unafraid in her own emotions.

Much of it had to do with Grandmama's society training. A lady never let on what she was thinking or feeling. One never knew who might be offended.

Eliza leaned forward and grabbed the small aluminum bottle and unscrewed the cap. A bit of water softened the dirt around the bone. Using her fingers, she dug away the mud and rocks, a bit more bone emerging from the ground.

But why must she always have her guard up? How was she to ever truly know anyone if she was always fiercely protecting herself against what they might think? Even with Devin, who knew her better than anyone else in the world ... she was still afraid to let him in completely. It was ridiculous. She'd always been able to share anything and everything with him.

Why had she never allowed herself to think of him as a suitor? He was her favorite person on earth!

"Eliza, what do you think of this one over here?"

Eliza shook her head free of her thoughts and looked over at Deborah. Her friend had chiseled a good deal of rock around what appeared to be a large fossil. When they'd started digging, it had been impossible to decipher what type of bone they were looking at.

But now, with Deborah's detailed and careful work...

Eliza laid down her chisel and hammer and jumped up and down. "Deborah!" she squealed. "That's a giant rib!"

"I was hoping you'd say that." Her friend joined her in a celebration. "So we have a dinosaur?"

Eliza twirled around, lifting her face to the sky. "Yes! I think we do!"