Chapter 3

three

"Am twenty-six years old today. More than a quarter of a century is gone and nothing accomplished yet of any value. Have hoped to make my life amount to something but have been disappointed so far. I realize if I am ever to amount to anything I will have to start soon. I have decided what I would like to do and what I would like to make of myself—a teacher and a scientist."

~Earl Douglass

F RIDAY , J UNE 16, 1916 · A DAMS F ARM NEAR J ENSEN , U TAH

The clink of silverware on plates echoed through the hushed room.

Eliza scanned the table. The family of six that was hosting her for the summer had a lovely home. The fact that they had a bedroom to spare when they had four daughters already was a testament to their good fortune out here in the West. While it wasn't nearly as wild and untamed as she'd expected, it was still remote and lacked the growing populations of the East.

Back home, buildings seemed to be constructed at a steady pace, expanding the city's borders. And there were always plenty of voices from people on the streets, sidewalks, in the shops ... even from neighbors.

Mills Manor sat on a good deal of acreage back home. She didn't even know how much. But they could still see their neighbors and hear them. But out here? There was no sign of a neighbor north, south, east, or west.

The quiet outside—little noise other than the rustling of the leaves in the wind or the song of a bird—had taken some getting used to. But it was the silence inside that startled her the most. Even in her massive estate in Pittsburgh there was always a hum of activity. Not only the servants, but Grandmama and Grandfather weren't quiet people. Every meal was filled with conversation.

She'd expected to arrive and need to get accustomed to a boisterous environment.

The Adamses were good people, their girls mannerly and smartly dressed. But Eliza didn't know them very well yet. Everything seemed to be a bit too proper whenever she was around. She'd heard the chatter and giggles multiple times as she approached the house. But they instantly ceased whenever she stepped over the threshold.

Time to change that.

She set down her fork and lifted her glass for a sip of water. "What are your plans for the summer, Louise?" She pointed her question to the eldest daughter.

The girl's gaze darted up from her plate and her cheeks pinked, but the sparkle in her eyes showed her pleasure in being asked. "Mama needs me to help with her shop, so I'm working every morning there."

Mrs. Adams had a shop. Wonderful. "I had no idea. What kind of shop is it?"

"Millinery." Louise beamed. "I'm trying to convince Mama to copy a few of your hats. They're so beautiful."

"And really, really big." The youngest piped up from her chair. Then covered her mouth with her hand as she glanced at her mother.

Eliza giggled and dabbed her lips with her napkin. "They are large, aren't they, Mabel?" She shrugged. "But I love hats. My dearest friend in all the world back home often tells me that my hats are monstrosities. But he doesn't understand how much women love their hats."

"Is that your beau back home?" Mrs. Adams raised her coffee cup to her lips.

"No." Eliza lifted her fork and knife once again. "His father was my private tutor, so we grew up together. He loved English. I loved science. We both hated math."

The two middle Adams daughters laughed along with her.

There. That was just what she'd hoped for. To see them relax in front of her. Eliza'd had enough stiff and stuffy meals to last a lifetime. "I take it you two don't like math either?"

The taller—Adelaide ... or was it Eleanor?—scrunched up her nose as she shook her head. "Mama often has me help her with the sums for her shop. I don't like it at all. But I do like your hats."

The younger of the two bobbed her head up and down so much that her ribbons flapped. "They're not monsters ... monstrosery—"

"Monstrosities." Louise helped her younger sibling.

"Monstro ... sities." The girl held her chin up after saying it all by herself. "When I grow up, I want to wear one just like your green one."

Mrs. Adams looked ready to interject at any moment, so Eliza leaned toward the little girl and grinned. "It's my favorite too."

The older woman sent her a soft smile and then turned to her daughters. "Girls, it's time to take care of the dishes."

"Yes, Mama," they chimed in unison.

The four young ladies from age eighteen down to six stood and began to clear the table.

"You are very kind to indulge them." Mrs. Adams's voice was low as she laid her napkin to rest on the table.

Eliza wasn't ignorant to the fact this family had opened up their home to a friend of Mr. Andrew Carnegie himself and that it probably brought a great weight on their minds. "I don't see it as indulgence at all." She blew out a slow breath and looked from Mr. Adams—who hadn't said a word the entire meal—back to his wife. "You have been wonderful, gracious, and so very kind to host me for the summer. But rest assured, my expectations aren't ridiculous. For me, it is a blessing to simply have the opportunity to spend time with such a loving family. I'd love to be looked at as another member of the family. Nothing more. No special treatment."

The clock chimed and it was the perfect reason to exit. Mrs. Adams seemed to be speechless while Mr. Adams's mouth hung open. It all became clear. Grandmama had a hand in this. No doubt sending pages of instructions and requirements for her granddaughter's accommodations.

No wonder the family had done everything to the point of perfection since her arrival. "I best be off to the quarry. Thank you so much for another lovely meal." She hurried from the table, gathered her things, and strode out to her waiting horse. Every day, it had been saddled and waiting for her at the hitching post.

She'd have to come up with something clever and creative to thank this sweet family. Over time as she got to know them, surely she would learn their personalities and tastes. By the time her summer was over, the Adamses would be her second family.

The ride to the quarry was uneventful, and she made her way to the tent that had become her office of sorts. A place to get out of the intense sun and spread out maps and papers without the wind whisking them to Colorado.

It would be magnificent if Earl would invite her to be a part of the dig. Only time would tell if that would happen. He was a man who had high expectations. Everyone had to give their very best. Truth and honesty were of utmost importance to him.

She winced. What would he think if he found out that she'd written all those papers under a man's name? To Earl, that would be a lie. She couldn't bear the thought of disappointing a man she respected so deeply. Grandfather's frustration with her chosen profession, though he'd finally relented, was still palpable.

Eliza gnawed at her lip, her chest tightening. No. It was best if none of it came to light.

She'd simply have to work extra hard and do her very best. Whatever she could do to help him do this work and see his dream for this area come alive, she'd do it.

"Miss Mills?" A wife of one of the other workers peeked into the tent.

"Good morning. Mrs. Hawkins, is it?" One thing she prided herself on was remembering the spouses of the workers. "What can I do for you?"

"I just came to chat. I heard Earl telling my Jim about your work for Carnegie back in Pittsburgh. It's fascinating that you do this work too." She stepped toward Eliza and bit her lip.

Eliza caught that inquisitive glint in the woman's eyes. A thrill shot through her. She recognized that look. "Does paleontology interest you as well?"

The woman nodded. Then strode forward and held out her hand. "Please call me Deborah."

"Eliza." She shook the woman's hand and then perched on the edge of the makeshift table. "I love that you are excited about this science too. May I ask what brought on your interest?"

The younger woman's eyes sparkled. "Back in 1908, I was fifteen. I remember Mr. Meyer coming to town all excited because he and one of his hands found a bone that couldn't belong to any living creature we know of today. It was fossilized in the rock, he said, but clear as day. For some reason, I wanted to go find it and dig it up myself. I had this little thrill inside just thinking about it. The community buzzed about it for a while, but then, you know, the tragedy that happened to their family overshadowed his excitement and most people forgot about it, I guess." She shrugged. "But then the next year, Earl found this. That same insatiable desire inside me sprang to life. But by then, my parents wouldn't allow me to do anything of the sort. Told me my duty was to get married first."

Eliza sent her a smile. "Well, I've seen the way you look at Mr. Hawkins. It appears that part of the plan worked out all right."

Deborah leaned forward, her face radiant with a glow that could only be attributed to love. "It did. And I am thankful." She looked down at her hands. "But I haven't had any children yet, and well..." Her gaze snapped back to Eliza's. "I was wondering if I could help you out here. My husband said he's fine with it if you are."

Eliza could barely restrain from grabbing the woman and twirling her around, much the way she would Devin back home. Taking a breath, she tamped down most of her giddiness and smiled at the woman. "I'd love to have your help! I'm not sure there would be any funds to pay you much, but I will gladly pay you out of my own earnings."

Oh! To have another woman around! How wonderful!

Goodness. She hadn't realized how starved for friendship she was. Without Devin around, it felt like half of her was missing. Maybe she and Deborah could team up ... especially if her next question had a favorable answer. "Did they ever dig up the bone discovered at the Meyer's?" As soon as the words were out, she regretted them. She should have asked about the tragedy of the family first. But she'd been holding it in ever since Deborah brought it up.

"No. The discovery was forgotten when the whole family disappeared. The grandparents. The parents. The children. All of them. Nowhere to be found. Food was cooking on the stove. Horses were saddled right outside the door. It was strange. They were never found."

"Who owns the ranch now?"

"A long-lost brother. He'd been the black sheep of the family for a good while but returned when the sheriff sent him word of what happened. He's not a rancher, but he's done his best to make his family proud."

Eliza could almost taste a victory. If those bones were still there ... if she and Deborah could somehow be allowed to dig them up ... imagine what that could do for the world of paleontology. Perhaps Dinosaur National Monument could even be expanded? They could have a visitor center and bring Earl's vision for the place to life. "Do you think you could go with me to speak to Mr. Meyer?"

"Of course." Deborah's eyes widened. "Do you think he'll allow you to look around and dig?"

"Maybe. But we won't know unless we try."

M ONDAY , J UNE 19, 1916 · P ITTSBURGH

Devin stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him. "Dad?" His day had been full of meetings that had been exhausting and boring all at the same time. Some of the older professors seemed to enjoy talking simply to hear the sound of their own voices. He made his way through the small cottage he shared with his father and laid his leather case on the table.

"Back here!" His father's tone was full of the same joy he exuded every day. "How did the meetings go?"

Devin found his father in the little room off the kitchen. His favorite. Probably because it was full of windows and was the cheeriest room in the house. "Long."

"Sounds like you need to get away." Dad stood and walked over to him, handing him an envelope. As he stepped around Devin, he gripped his shoulder and squeezed. "I'm going to make some dinner. Are you hungry?"

"Famished, actually." Devin turned the envelope over in his hands.

Eliza.

Her handwriting sent his heart into a fast trot. He closed his eyes for a moment and steadied his breathing.

Dad began to shuffle around pots and pans in a cabinet. "She addressed it to both of us. It was sweet that she sent me a note in there too. My letter is on the table if you'd like to read it."

The clanking covered up the pounding of Devin's heart. It had been one thing to say good-bye to her and an entirely different thing to realize each day that she wasn't within walking distance. They hadn't been apart more than a few days since they were children. Each day that passed he told himself to push thoughts of her aside. After all, that was what he wanted. To let her go.

But now, she'd been gone for two weeks, and it had been awful. Pure torture.

"Are you just gonna stand there staring at it? Or are you gonna read it?"

Devin laid it on the table on top of the letter to Dad. "I'll read it after dinner." He had to do something about these feelings for her. If he allowed himself to get eager every time she sent word, he would never be able to let her go.

"You'll read it now ." His father was beside him holding a skillet, his firm voice scolding. "You've been a complete grump since she left. It's going to take time for me to concoct something for us to eat anyway. Take them back to your room and read them."

He'd never shared his feelings for Eliza with his father. Hadn't told him about the promise he'd made to Mr. Mills. Then the pledge he'd recently made to himself.

"Son?"

He'd been standing there staring at the letters. He glanced back to Dad. "I don't think that's a good idea."

His father set the skillet down on the table and took a seat. "All right, sit."

He did as he was told.

"I've had an inkling for a while now that what you felt for Eliza was more than just friendship. But I wasn't certain until she left for this new job. You haven't been yourself." Dad pursed his lips and took a long, slow breath. "And now I see it written all over your face. I'm sorry I didn't say anything to you until now, I really had no idea that your feelings for her ran so deep. How long have you been in love with her?"

Devin couldn't move for several moments. Then he slumped forward with a sigh. There was no reason to keep it all inside any longer. It's not like his dad was the town gossip and would spread it around. Swiping a hand through his hair, he met his father's gaze. "It was a childhood crush—or so I thought—for many years." Memories scrolled through his mind in vivid pictures. "But love? Probably since I was about sixteen. There's never been anyone else that even remotely caught my attention. It's always been her. Naturally, it didn't help matters that we spent so much time together. I could never say no to her adventures. Or the chance to be with her a bit longer."

Dad chuckled. "You two have always been inseparable."

"But a few weeks ago, I couldn't sleep one night, and with all the tossing and turning, I finally got up and pledged to myself that I would let her go. It isn't good for me to be lov ing her with no chance of that love being returned. I've been dreading the day she comes to tell me that she's courting or worse—betrothed."

"Dev—"

"No. Dad. Please." He held up a hand. "I haven't ever said anything because I didn't want the lectures. I didn't want the sympathy every time you looked at me. Do you realize that each time she came to the university to see me—Every. Single. Time.—I had to brace myself? Thinking, it's going to be today. She's going to want me to share in her excitement that she's in love. My heart has been broken hundreds of times because I can't bear the thought."

The rush of words halted. He couldn't say anything else without choking up. All these years, he'd kept it all locked inside. Because it was the right thing to do. And now, he wished he could make it disappear.

"I wouldn't ever lecture you, son. Never. Not on matters of the heart."

He lifted his gaze to Dad's. There were tears in his eyes.

"Read the letter, son. Read the one she wrote to me as well. You should know that after all these years, she's already like a daughter to me. I love that girl. Love her passion for science. Even more, I love her passion for the Creator, and how she's grappled with many in the scientific world who try to deny His existence. You know I adore her. And you know I want you to be happy. I'd never stand in the way of that."

"Her grandparents would. Dad, I promised Mr. Mills I would never pursue her." At his father's frown, he shifted gears. "Besides, she's never once shown an inkling of interest in me other than friendship."

"Are you sure?" Dad tipped his head to the side. "Sometimes us Schmitt men can be pretty dense." He shrugged. "I didn't see that my own son was in love for all these years. And your mother definitely had to help me see that she cared for me. I had a hard time believing I was worthy." He stood and picked the skillet up. "At least go read the letter. As to the promise to Mr. Mills, we can talk more about it over dinner."

Devin pushed himself to his feet and stared at the envelope and paper underneath. With a nod, he snatched it up and marched to his room.

He sat in the straight-back chair at the small desk under the window. With stiff shoulders and a clenched jaw, he pulled the letter out, bracing himself for the words from Eliza. He refused to let them in. He couldn't. Wouldn't let them affect him. He was letting her go. He could do it.

Dear Devin,

How are things going at the University? Are you bored out of your mind yet from all the meetings and the old gents who blather on about how things used to be done?

He leaned back in his chair and laughed. She knew him better than anyone else, that was for certain. Relaxing a bit, he settled in to read.

I imagine you will have your work cut out for you to whip the old geezers into shape and help them to see the importance of molding the next generation. Or at least, teaching them about correct grammar usage. Which is of utmost importance too.

It would be tolerable to take English again if it was in your class. You've always been able to make all that interesting to me. Even literature, of all things! Which we both know wasn't my forte. But give me a book on geology or chemistry, and I'm all ears.

First, I have to admit that you were correct. It has been very difficult for me to not be near a city. The closest town doesn't boast much at all. It's a good thing I brought trunks of clothes, hats, and shoes—otherwise, I probably would have to send word to Grandmama to ship more to me.

But thanks to the new monument here (although there isn't an actual monument yet, just the quarry), people are coming by the stagefull, which is, thankfully, bringing in more business. Right now, it's saloons and places to stay. But it is a start to civilizing this little corner of the West. The Carnegie Quarry out here is magnificent. While some might only think of it as a hole in the ground, it is the grandest sight I've ever seen. So many bones! I feel giddy every time I see it.

Devin smiled. He could hear her voice as he read, and it lifted his spirits. Life without her was dull. Without color.

When I first met Earl Douglass, I thought I might faint with joy. Ever since his Apatosaurus was shipped to the museum and assembled next to Dippy, I've wanted to meet him. I must report that he is very amiable. And not at all full of himself for his findings. In fact, he is very focused on his work and nonchalant.

While I haven't done any of the excavating with Mr. Douglass yet—which would be a dream come true—I've had my hands full keeping the sightseers informed and answering all their plethora of questions. It is definitely the greatest job I've ever done.

I've had the privilege of speaking with Mr. Douglass a couple times. I must say that I completely agree with his vision for the monument. Instead of digging all the bones out, wouldn't it be grand to leave an exhibit in the rock so that people can see them? Preserved where they are, it would be an incredible education for the future generations.

But Mr. Carnegie wants to fill his Hall of Dinosaurs, and I don't blame him.

Perhaps over time, Mr. Douglass will convince the powers that be to see the great advantages to his vision.

If anyone could help convince people, it was Eliza. Perhaps he should suggest that to her in his return letter.

There have been so many visitors that it has been a learning experience to adapt my knowledge in talks for them. They have a great deal of questions! Each day, I feel I learn just as much as they do and go back to my room and make copious notes for the following day.

Speaking of rooms, I have the cutest little space at a nearby farm. The family is sweet and precious. Mr. Carnegie said that he wanted to get more housing built out here for the workers at his quarry—as many of them make do with tents—but there's only so much manpower to go around.

She filled the next two pages with all the stories she'd gotten to tell and the different people she'd met. Some were wealthy and famous people who'd come to see the great dinosaur bones. Others were simple folks who couldn't resist the pull of the great beasts in the ground. It sounded like Eliza enjoyed educating both groups equally.

When he flipped the last page over, he felt his smile slip. He was almost done with her letter.

Now to the most exciting news. One of the wives of the workers told me the most fascinating story about some bones that were found prior to Earl's discovery. We went out to the ranch and spoke to the owner. He's willing to allow me to hunt for the site of the fossils and even dig them out if we find them! Won't that be fantastic?

And just as exciting, Dr. Masterson is coming here. Can you believe it? Mr. Carnegie sent a wire the other day, and I must admit that I've been just a bit ecstatic over the news. You know how much I have loved Dr. Masterson's research and papers. He's the one who inspired me to write and submit my own in the first place. And to think, I get to meet him!

I know I teased you about coming to visit. I was genuine and earnest in my request, but I don't believe you took me seriously. So I'm going to ask again.

Would you please come out to visit? I'd love to share this excitement with you. And even if you don't find it interesting, there's nothing else for you to do out here, so you could bring all the papers you wanted to grade and every book imaginable to read. There's nothing to distract you. Although it can get pretty windy, and your dear books might get covered in dust.

I would beg and plead if I could. It would be nice to see a friendly face. You could even see the Rocky Mountains you've always dreamed of seeing on your way out!

Please? Would you do this for me?

I promise I won't ask anything else of you. At least ... not this year.

Your dear friend, Eliza

Devin looked up from the letter and stared out the window.

He really had no desire to go stare at a wide trench in the ground. Then there was his schedule. All the meetings. All the planning that had to be done for the next term. The reorganization he had to do of the department.

He wasn't all that thrilled to leave Dad either. What if something happened to him while Devin was gone? He scratched his jaw and looked down at the letter again. If he said any of that to Dad, he'd get an earful about his pitiful excuses.

But the picture Eliza painted with her vibrant words tugged on him. Seeing an alligator fossil at sixteen was probably small potatoes to seeing mammoth skeletons unearthed in Utah. Beyond all that, there was Eliza with her joy and cheer. He missed his dearest friend. Pulling out a couple sheets of clean paper, he thought through his response.

Obviously he was going.

What other choice did he have?

T HURSDAY , J UNE 22, 1916 · C ARNEGIE I NSTITUTE

It should have been him! Why he'd been passed over for the prestigious job by some upstart in petticoats and feathers was beyond his understanding. It was as if Mr. Carnegie didn't care that he was the foremost expert on fossilization and the Jurassic period this side of the Mississippi River. The opportunity to study and be a part of the work at Dinosaur National Monument and show Earl who was the expert hadn't just slipped through his fingers—it hadn't even been offered to him.

In the beginning, he'd simply wanted what was owed to him.

The prestige. The fame. The accolades.

He'd already missed out on what should have been his in Utah.

This wasn't just about that joker-posing-as-a-paleontologist out at the quarry.

Now that woman was invading his realm and taking opportunities that should have been his.

Now, it was personal.

Besides, she was easier to deal with and more insignificant.

He stroked his jaw, his mind cluttered with thoughts. Mr. Carnegie, and anyone in the scientific community who supported that woman, needed to see reason. She was not qualified to explain the depths of evolutionary science. She didn't even believe in it! Was she going to tell some sort of antiquated Bible story and try to charm tourists and scientists alike with her poppycock ideas about creation? He scoffed, the sound echoing off the walls of his office. They'd come a long way in the past few decades. This was no place for a woman. Especially not a spoiled, rich one who always got her way simply because of who her family was.

Anger rippled through him. There had to be a solution. A way to expose her for the fraud she was.

His university friends were adamant against any sort of campaign to topple the annoying Miss Mills. Not because they didn't share his viewpoint. They did. But they refused to do anything to anger Mr. Carnegie and have their funding for various experiments and areas of study taken from them.

Cowards.

It was exactly as Darwin said, survival of the fittest. Conquer or be conquered. Kill or be killed.

He dropped his hand with the thought. How far was he willing to go? Agitated by the mess on his desk, he gathered the scattered essays from his final class and stacked them in an orderly pile. With deft movements, he set the desk to rights, the rhythm of order soothing his frayed nerves.

Murder was a bit extreme. Perhaps he was looking at this situation all wrong. She was in Utah for the summer. There was nothing he could do to stop her here in Pennsylvania. The idea turned in his mind and gained ground. Yes. That was the place to start. Another trip to Utah. To observe her and find ways to prove her presence was a disgrace to the scientific community.

Perhaps there was a way to kill two birds with one stone, since things in Wyoming weren't going as planned.

Shoving a few papers into his leather briefcase, he slipped the leather straps through the brass buckles and secured them with a tug. Smashing his hat on his head, he made his way back to his house. He had summer plans to make.