Chapter 16

sixteen

"What is the use of anything only to make others and myself as happy as I can while I live. My greatest ambition is to earn enough money to make my folks comfortable and do the work I love. Although I have not reached that time yet the prospect seems better than ever before."

~Earl Douglass

M ONDAY , J ULY 31, 1916 · P ITTSBURGH

"I wish that girl would come home." Dad set the biscuits on the table with a bit more force than usual.

Devin felt the same but had been working to tame his anger. He'd been so focused on his work when he got back that he hadn't bothered to read the papers. Dad struggled with his eyes, and the doctor told him not to read for a while until a new pair of spectacles came in for him.

So yesterday, when a colleague at work teased him about the newspaper article on Eliza, Devin took the ribbing good-naturedly, pretending he knew what the man was talking about. As soon as he was able, he rushed home to find the article.

He read each horrible word, fingers turning white, he gripped the paper so hard. He tossed the paper aside. Was that what passed for journalism these days? Salacious gossip? Poor Eliza. What had this done to her? Why hadn't she written him about it?

He took a sip of coffee before responding to Dad. "I'd like to take the next train west and get her, but I have no idea what's happening out there. That article has been out for a while. Have they even seen it out West?"

"Hard to tell. But with the wireless telegraph and such these days, it would be hard to escape it." Dad squinted at him. "Exactly why didn't she come home with you again?"

"They started to dig again—and not just any dig. Eliza was put in charge. Earl Douglass is a phenomenal mentor, and she's learned so much from him." Devin ate a few more bites, then reached for a biscuit. "You'd enjoy seeing the quarry. Especially once you see the museum and how they've put together some of the large skeletons."

Dad barely kept his grin hidden. "You sound like a supportive and encouraging friend ."

"And what is so wrong with that?" Devin rolled his eyes. "Here we go again. You said you wouldn't bring it up."

"Well, after you asked me about your mother, it's only fair. I'm not going to walk on eggshells about Eliza." His dad laughed. "You seriously believe that the two of you—as close as you've always been—can stay apart? Especially now that you told her how you felt?"

Devin groaned and shook his head. He should have never told his father about his feelings. Ever since that night on the porch when they'd talked about Mom, Dad had been on the constant prowl to play matchmaker.

The telephone rang, and Devin got up and laid his napkin on the table. "I'll get that."

He went to the phone on the wall and answered. "Hello?"

"Is this Devin Schmitt?" A female voice he didn't recognize.

"Yes."

"Hi. I'm sorry to bother you at home, but I needed to talk to you right away. I'm Sarah Limon. I'm a friend of Eliza's at the Carnegie Institute."

Something in the tone of her voice set him on edge. "Is everything all right?"

"No. There are some terrible rumors going around at the museum about Eliza. They're accusing her of stealing fossils and donor money. It's awful. But once the rumors started, they just got bigger and more outlandish. And then that newspaper article fueled it all, even though Mr. Carnegie issued a statement to all the employees here about that. I'm worried about her, and she's not here to defend herself."

His blood began to boil. These shenanigans had gone far enough! "Who started the rumors?"

"I don't know." Crackling sounded through the phone. Then her voice was even softer. "But you know, there are plenty of men here who don't like a woman working in the paleontology part of the museum." Another crackling sound. "Eliza talked about you all the time, and I knew I could trust you. I'm just a secretary, so I don't have any power to do anything to help. But I knew you could." Some more crackling. "I'm sorry. I have to go."

The line disconnected.

Devin hung up the phone.

"What was that all about? Rumors?" Dad had come out of his seat.

Devin filled him in as he paced the small area around the table.

"What are you going to do?"

Devin laid his hands on the back of the chair and leaned down. His mind swirled. Oh, he'd like to punch whoever started those rumors. And he'd like to make sure that anyone who said anything negative about Eliza was fired. And never able to come near her again. Unfortunately, that wasn't in his power.

He straightened. But one thing was. "I'm going to have a meeting with Mr. Carnegie, that's what I'm going to do."

Dad's eyes widened. "Have you ever met the man?"

"Once. With Eliza at the museum." The wealthy philanthropist probably wouldn't remember him, but he didn't care. He would wait as long as it took to see him. No, he would demand to see him.

"It's a noble thing you want to do, son, but I'm not sure you'll be successful. Especially since we really don't have any idea what's happening."

Devin narrowed his eyes. "I'll tell you what's happening. Someone is trying to ruin Eliza's reputation by lying about her. Whoever it is was bold enough to send an imposter out West and now this. And I'm not about to allow that to happen." He straightened and slapped his napkin on the table.

Just let anyone try to stand in his way.

M ONDAY , J ULY 31, 1916 · D INO SAUR N ATIONAL M ONUMENT

She could've sworn this was where she'd buried the gold. But no matter how many holes she dug, she hadn't found it.

It was dark though, with only the light of the moon. She couldn't risk a lantern out here. Especially since the man running the quarry had started having men patrol at night.

But she had to find the box of gold. It contained the only map with detailed instructions as to where the rest of the gold was hidden all over the ranch.

She sat back on her heels and took a deep breath. That's what all this was for. That bullion was her ticket to a new life. She deserved it after all she'd endured. It. Was. Hers.

With it, she would disappear to Europe forever and live like a princess. She would shed the shell of the woman she'd been and become anything she wanted to be. She was young. She could be vibrant once more.

Never ... never again would she allow a man to control her, beat her down, and crush her spirit.

With fresh vigor, she went back to the boulder by her marker and counted her steps. Perhaps she'd been off by a step or angled in the wrong direction. But she came to the same spot. Then she gasped and went back to the crevice in the large rock wall. Her marker was gone.

She growled out her frustration. No wonder she hadn't been able to find it. Now she'd have to dig up this entire area.

She would find it. She would.

And woe to anyone who tried to stop her.

W EDNESDAY , A UGUST 2, 1916 · A DAMS F ARM

Two weeks had passed since Devin left. She'd shed more tears in the past few weeks than in her entire life.

But it had been worth it. Because now she knew the truth.

Devin Schmitt was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Not only his friendship, and not only his speaking truth into her last month ... but his unconditional love for her.

His honesty.

His fierce loyalty.

His knack for pushing back with her and making her think.

She asked herself over and over why she hadn't paid more attention to that all these years. But now, after several prayer sessions with Mary and a good deal of time in the Word, she was ready.

Ready to cast aside all her fears and fully trust in the Lord.

Even though every day was a struggle.

Even though, every day, she wished she could talk to Devin. Tell him what was in her heart.

And even though, most of the time, she struggled for words to express what she felt.

Despite all that, she would no longer deny she loved him. And was, as a matter of fact, in love with him.

Just the thought brought a smile to her heart.

It was time to send him a long letter. If she could only get the words right. She preferred to tell him in person... but that would be weeks away.

When her commitment here to Carnegie for the summer came to an end, she would tell her wonderful boss that she preferred returning to the museum. But in the time she had left here, she would grow and trust the Lord to help her conquer her fears and insecurities.

Stepping back onto the porch, she stared out at the sunset. Tomorrow promised to be hot and full of visitors since the men at the quarry directed the ones who weren't satisfied to wait for her direction. She didn't mind. That was, after all, why she was out here. Perhaps she should go to bed early and catch up from all the sleepless nights.

She turned and walked in the door. The house was quiet, so she slipped up the stairs to her room.

Under the door, an envelope was tucked there.

She picked it up and smiled when she saw Devin's handwriting. He'd followed through with his promise to write her. Even with her lack of correspondence to him. Goodness, she wasn't good enough for him.

She went into her room and closed the door as she ripped into the envelope.

Dear Eliza,

I hope you are doing well. Dad sends his love to you.

I returned back to work to find a mountain of paperwork waiting for me. I should have known. But it has kept me busy.

Leaving Utah was difficult, but I'm thankful you have people there to pray with you and guide you. Scripture is clear that older women and older men should help to guide the younger women and younger men, but rarely do we see that in action anymore. I think that church family will be a great one for you for a long time. I'm so happy for you.

Since I challenged you to follow your passions and abandon your fears, I decided it was only fair that I do the same thing. I can't give you all the details yet, but you can be praying for me.

Dad and I are doing well, we've gotten back into our usual rhythm of life.

He went on about the new classes he would be teaching and the new organization of the department. Funny, in the past, she hadn't paid as much attention to the details of his work, but now she found them fascinating.

She finished his letter and placed it on her small desk. She sat in the chair and stared out the window, wanting to write him back. But something Mary had said earlier kept coming back to mind.

" What are you striving for?"

Eliza hadn't understood at first, but Mary continued to push until she did.

For so long, Eliza had thought she'd taken the apostle Paul's approach and had been content in whatever circumstances she was in. But Mary confronted her on that.

Eliza hadn't been content. She'd been passionate about her work, yes, but she'd been searching and longing and striving for something else. Thinking she hadn't achieved what she was supposed to.

As she and Mary talked, she told her that she'd written dozens of papers. She'd studied for years. She had a degree in paleontology, for goodness' sake. Plus she'd earned the position at the Carnegie Museum and now was out here at Dinosaur National Monument...

And even as she talked, she finally understood.

It was all striving.

Because she was so afraid of failing. And because she was striving over and over...

She wasn't content.

If she had been content, she would have continued on no matter what naysayers said. She would've plopped her own name on those papers and been content with whatever God wanted to do with them.

She would have trusted Him. And His love for her—

Oh.

His love. For her.

She leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes. Is that it, Lord? She waited, and the confirmation rang through her heart and soul.

This was what Mary had been trying to get through her thick skull. Eliza was afraid, yes. But not just of failure. Or being alone.

She was afraid of love.

No... she was afraid of not deserving love. God's love. And then ... Devin's.

She stood and tried to catch her breath.

She'd thought all these years that the something missing was something she hadn't found yet. Something she needed to search for, or research, or study.

But it was right in front of her the entire time.

Taking deep breaths, she worked to calm her heart. She'd love nothing more than to run to Mary and tell her the epiphany she'd just had. But it was getting late.

Eliza plopped back in the chair and picked up her pen.

No. These words shouldn't be written in a letter to Devin. She needed to tell him face-to-face.

But she wrote them down anyway, just for herself.

I am loved by God.

Wholly. Completely. Unconditionally.

She couldn't help but laugh with the joy bubbling out of her. And in that moment...

Her heart cracked open wide.

God. Loved . Her.

And He gave her Devin. Her best friend. Her constant support.

Her beloved.

She loved him. And now she knew God had given him to her to share life and faith with.

Laughter bubbled out of her again. No wonder she extracted that promise from him all those years ago! She must have known in her soul that without Devin, she wasn't who God intended her to be. He completed her. She completed him. God made them to love each other.

Thank You, Lord. Thank You for helping me finally see.

She. Loved. Devin.

F RIDAY , A UGUST 4, 1916 · P ITTSBURGH

The loud banging at the front door had Devin rubbing at his eyes as he threw on his bathrobe and rushed to answer it. He peered out the small window in the top of the door.

There stood the same man who'd summoned him to Mills Manor when Mr. Mills had passed.

He opened the door. "Good morning." His voice croaked, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Good morning, Mr. Schmitt. Mrs. Mills requests that you take breakfast with her this morning, if that is amenable to you."

Wait. What? Had he heard the man correctly? "She wants me to eat breakfast ... with her?" Was he dreaming?

The man smiled and nodded. "Mrs. Mills also apologizes for the early summons. But it is most important."

The words finally penetrated his sleep-addled brain. "Oh! Yes. What time is she expecting me?"

"Twenty minutes?" The man pointed behind him to a motor car. "I'll be glad to drive you as soon as you are ready."

Devin blinked. Mrs. Mills ate breakfast at six a.m.? Didn't the wealthy sleep in and have breakfast at their leisure? "I'll be right out." He closed the door and rushed back down the hall. No time to waste. He tapped on Dad's door—the man could sleep through a tornado. When he didn't answer, Devin went back to the kitchen and wrote a note in large letters so his father would be able to read it.

In record time, he showered, shaved, dressed, and was out the door with just a few minutes to spare.

On the short drive, he worked to rid his brain of the cobwebs that had taken up residence while he slept. What would Mrs. Mills request of him this time? It didn't matter. For Eliza's sake, as long as it was in his power, he would help her grandmother.

The driver parked the car and opened the door for Devin.

He took the front steps two at a time and the butler opened the door before he could knock. "This way, sir." The man bowed.

Devin followed him into the morning room. A gorgeous and airy room painted yellow on two walls and full of windows on the other two.

Eliza's grandmother sat at the table.

"Good morning, Mrs. Mills." He bowed. Was his suit wrinkled? He hadn't even thought to check.

"Good morning, Devin." Her smile was bright. "Please have a seat."

The butler pulled out a chair for him, and he sat. A huge plate was taken from the warmer and placed in front of him.

"Would you bless the meal, please?" Mrs. Mills raised an eyebrow at him.

He cleared his throat and bowed his head. "Father God, we thank You for this bounty before us. Bless this time together. In Jesus's name, amen."

"Thank you, dear." She began to fill her plate as the servants came around the table with different dishes.

He did the same, but it was difficult to think about food knowing that there was something important coming. Devin placed his napkin in his lap and picked up one of the three forks in front of him, praying it was the correct one.

"You're probably wondering why I asked you to come today." Mrs. Mills glanced at him.

He chuckled when he saw the sparkle in her eyes. "The thought crossed my mind, yes, ma'am."

She took a bite of her quiche and then took a sip of juice. "I've been doing a great deal of thinking since my husband passed. God rest his soul."

"Oh?" His stomach rumbled. Might as well enjoy the incredible food in front of him. The first bite of quiche practically melted on his tongue. What was in this glorious concoction?

"You see, I'm the one who insisted that my husband ask you to make that promise to him all those years ago."

He swallowed, and it plummeted to his stomach like a brick. He set his fork down and picked up his juice glass. Nerves prickled his skin. Was he about to be told to stay away from her again? For good?

"I could tell that you adored Eliza, and I was concerned."

The warmth in the woman's eyes made him bold. "Concerned I wouldn't treat her well?"

"Heavens, no. I knew you'd loved our girl from a young age. You've always been a man of integrity. But ... my father and my husband's father were both men of the old regime. Money ruled all. There was no mixing of the classes. Old money trumped new money, and new money trumped no money."

"Funny, your husband said something like that to me that day." No matter how good the food was, he wasn't about to eat anything else. He couldn't. He waited for whatever Mrs. Mills had to say.

Mrs. Mills placed her fork on her plate and waved for the servants to leave them. She focused her gaze on Devin. "Over the years, I've watched my granddaughter flourish in her pursuit of paleontology. But she has never once shown any interest in any man we tried to introduce her to. She never truly enjoyed all the balls and galas—even though we made her go. You were the only one she shared her life with other than us. You were her best friend, and we respected that.

"But last year, my husband began to try and convince me that perhaps we had been wrong and a bit judgmental. Your father is one of the finest men we know. As are you. You hold my Eliza's heart, even if she doesn't realize it."

What? He leaned back in his chair.

"A bit shocked, are you?" She seemed amused. "Eat your food, son, I promise I won't bite."

What on earth was happening here? Devin sat up straight and picked up his fork out of respect but wasn't sure he could swallow anything until he knew for sure what Mrs. Mills was saying.

"I don't care about money. Eliza will inherit enough money to care for generation upon generation beyond her. If you two don't wish to live here, that's fine. If you want to continue as the English department head, that's fine too." She paused and raised a hand to her chest, mindlessly toying with the string of pearls around her neck. "If Eliza wants to work in the museum for the rest of her life, or if she chooses to wear pants and dig in the dirt, I won't stand in her way."

He took another sip of juice and prayed it would go down. "Ma'am, I'm a bit confused." But hope sprang alive like a well within him.

"Let me be quite blunt."

Devin straightened and looked Eliza's grandmother in the eye. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled at him, and Devin was struck at the strong resemblance between the woman and Eliza. His heart ached. How he missed her. "You are released from your vow."

What did she just say? His heart seemed to stop for a moment.

Mrs. Mills continued. "Eliza's grandfather and I both knew that you are the man for our girl. The way you have loved her and stood by her all these years is a credit to the man that you are."

His lungs released as if they'd been bound up for years. "Thank you, ma'am." He stared at his plate and was all of a sudden ravenous. Picking up his fork for the third time, he hesitated, his thoughts in a jumble. Even with Mrs. Mills's blessing, there was no guarantee Eliza felt the same way about him. Sure, there had been glimpses of something more in Utah. Yet some of her last words were about what a good friend he was. He said as much to Mrs. Mills.

"I do love Eliza, Mrs. Mills. But I don't think she cares for me the same way. She's never said—"

"Let me stop you right there." She held up a hand and her smile became ... mischievous. "She loves you, Devin. I know my granddaughter. She may not even admit it to herself because her grandfather instilled in her from a very young age to keep a fierce guard on her heart. She always took whatever he said to be written in stone." Her wistful expression was beautiful. "But rest assured. She loves you. That's why there has never been anyone else."

Mrs. Mills took a sip of water and licked her lips. "Now that we've solved that ... what are we going to do about this mess with the museum?"