Chapter 8

FRIDAY, MAY 20, 1904

Marvella stretched out on the fainting couch with a box of bonbons and Sir Theophilus in her lap.

Eleanor Briggs was a challenge. Not only did the poor thing seem to have been in the company of men much too often since her mother died, but she also was cold toward God.

And that simply wouldn’t do.

Perhaps Marvella could introduce her to Rebecca Whitman—now Andrews. The two would probably hit it off. Especially since they were both from big cities.

She bit into another bonbon and chewed, her thoughts swirling. The Lord was so good to bring another young woman across her path. Rebecca had been a challenge, as well. Brilliant and determined to be her own woman. The day she’d come to the Lord lived fondly in Marvella’s memories. What a wonderful day that had been.

But Eleanor. Marvella sighed. Eleanor was the very definition of a lost sheep who’d wandered away.

Not that she pitied the young woman. Heavens, no. That girl didn’t need pity. She needed the guidance and love of a mentor. Someone to draw her back into the fold. Eleanor would benefit immensely from having people around her to help her grow into who God had created her to be. Rebecca might also be able to help her guide the lost conservationist’s daughter back to the Lord. The idea took deeper root. Yes. The new Mrs. Andrews might be key to the next step in her plan to help the young Miss Briggs.

Marvella popped the other half of her bonbon in her mouth. She wiped her fingers on the linen serviette on her lap and put the box of sweets on the table beside her, a smile playing on her lips.

Whatever the case may be, Marvella had found her new protégé.

TUESDAY, MAY 24, 1904

It turned out Mr. Louis Hill’s arrival in Kalispell was the worst-kept secret since his family’s plan for the railroad leaked. Carter didn’t know who had let the railroad baron’s arrival slip, but it was all over town mere hours after his arrival. Tensions among the townspeople had been simmering for weeks. But now they were like a kettle about to whistle—hot and full of steam.

To make matters worse, young Mr. Hill had contracted a summer cold. Any meeting with him had been out of the question until he was well.

Unable to voice their anger and frustration with the young man, people were starting to take their stress out on one another. Fights broke out at saloons in the middle of the day. Three days ago, Carter overheard two women bickering over a five-pound bag of sugar in the general store. Their voices rose to the point that the manager asked them to leave until they could behave in a decent manner.

Yesterday a group of railroad workers quit a half hour before their shift and marched to the Ashbury home, demanding a meeting with Mr. Hill. The Judge, calm and unyielding as ever, had dispersed the crowd with the promise that Mr. Hill would be well enough to attend a town meeting the following night at the McIntosh Opera House, seven o’clock sharp.

Word spread faster than a forest fire in summer.

Now hundreds of men and women poured into the opera house, waiting to hear what Mr. Hill had to say. But judging by the murmurs of the crowd and the number of frowns on faces, the townspeople seemed more than ready to give the railroad man a piece of their mind.

Lord, please, let everyone stay civil.

The opera house was at standing-room-only capacity. If a fight broke out, it would be mighty difficult to stay clear of it. Especially for those up on the second floor.

Carter and his father took front-row seats. It would be good to finally hear what Hill had to say. Dad had hoped to meet privately with the man, but so far Hill had not responded to any of his missives. Not that Carter was surprised. But he wouldn’t burst his dad’s optimistic bubble.

Judge Ashbury took to the stage, and to Carter’s surprise, so did Ellie. She was accompanied by her father and Mr. Grinnell. Carter leaned over to his father and told him who they were.

“I’ve heard of Grinnell. You say the men are conservationists?”

“That’s right.”

Just then, Mr. Hill joined the others on the stage. They all took seats behind the podium.

The Judge stepped forward. “It is my pleasure this evening to introduce you to several important men. Mr. Louis Hill, as you know, is the son of James Hill, owner of the Great Northern Railway.”

No one clapped. In fact, someone might well heckle or boo the man. But better sense prevailed, thank heaven.

“Our other guests are conservationist and naturalist George Grinnell and Stewart Briggs. Mr. Briggs’s daughter, Eleanor, is accompanying her father on his work here. I’ll let them explain later what they have been working on. For now, however, I will let Mr. Hill speak on the plans he has for the railroad.”

Hill took the podium and looked out at the crowd. The bearded, mustached man wore glasses and looked like a younger version of Mr. Briggs. It was uncanny how similar the men were in appearance, only Briggs didn’t wear spectacles.

Hill looked out over the people gathered there. “I am glad for the opportunity to address you this evening. I know that many of you have questions regarding the railroad’s planned changes, and I hope that I can explain in a precise manner why these changes are necessary.

“First of all, most of you know how dangerous the line from Columbia Falls to Kalispell has become. The grade of the line itself is a serious matter. We hired a team of experts to explore ways to lessen the grade with perhaps more tunneling or switchbacks, but in the long run, none of those were viable possibilities.”

A low voice muttered behind Carter. “They’d have been viable enough if it meant the end of his livelihood.”

Hill explained that rerouting the line through Whitefish would prevent further accidents and deaths, making the expense and labor more than worth the cost.

“I know that you are all concerned about losing jobs here, as well as the ability to transport your goods and people. It is something that I have given a great deal of consideration. I will concede that there wasn’t an easy answer. We will, from time to time, schedule train service into Kalispell, although I cannot say how often that will be. Again, the dangers create a risk I’m simply not willing to take. Future discussions with engineers and those who can best judge the matter will take place. It is even possible that in time we will build a spur line down from Whitefish to Kalispell, and that will relieve you of your worries.”

“In time won’t help us now!”

Mr. Hill looked toward the man who’d shouted from the back of the room. “And I understand your concern.”

“You should understand it. You’re taking away over two hundred jobs,” another man called out.

“Yes, but there are jobs to be had in Whitefish. Most of you can simply transfer up there.”

“Our homes are here!” a woman countered.

Others started yelling their comments, and soon the entire room exploded in voices. Hill stepped aside as Judge Ashbury came to the podium and pounded on it with his fist. “Order, if you please. We must have order.” Things began to quiet down, and the Judge continued. “Mr. Hill has graciously traveled here to speak with you tonight, and you will afford him the respect he deserves. We are not a band of banshees to be howling in such a disrespectful manner.” This settled the room for the moment.

Hill finished his speech and surprised Carter by offering to take a few questions. The first man up was one of the local ranchers.

“Kalispell has a lot of farmers and ranchers. How are we supposed to ship our product without train service?”

Hill leaned forward, adopting the posture of a confidant. “You pose a good question and I have an answer. The gentlemen who have joined me on this stage are instrumental in seeing that much of the area to our north and east is set aside for a national park. I’m sure you’ve read about it in the newspaper.

“Yellowstone National Park has seen tens of thousands of visitors each year. The numbers continue to climb. At the park’s inception the numbers were much less, of course, but once the railroad came to them in 1883 the numbers increased dramatically. Our proposed national park here will already have the railroad. In fact, the park is being planned in such a way that the railroad will bring people directly in without the need for additional transportation.

“The national park will employ dozens of people and provide hotel services and restaurants for the vast number of visitors who will come to the area. Your products will have no need to ship when that happens. Meat and grain, other foods grown here will meet visitors’ needs.”

“But we’d still have to get them up there. To Whitefish. On top of that, there is no national park at this time.” The man’s bushy eyebrows dipped deep over his eyes.

“That’s true, but the men who are with me today intend to supply all the pertinent information that will allow President Roosevelt to move forward on the park’s creation. We believe that after receiving this information, the president will make a request for the national park by the end of the summer. Our plan is that the railroad will be finished with its new line in August, and this will of course be a benefit in that the president will see there is already a fully functioning railroad in place, ready to bring visitors into the park.”

“August!” several voices shouted at the same time. The comments began flying once again.

Carter looked at Dad. “I didn’t realize we had so little time.”

“I thought the matter was still open to discussion. I guess we know better now.” Dad shook his head. “You and I and Fred need to get together and talk about this in detail. We very well may need to buy up a bunch of freight wagons. I know I’ve mentioned it before, but we may need to start a freighting aspect to our businesses.”

“As to your other point”—Hill’s raised voice quieted the crowd a bit—“with increased visitors because of the park, the railroad will be able to make the train available to Kalispell more often. Perhaps some of the tourists will even want to come here.”

The crowd burst into all sorts of responses.

“So it’s all about money!”

“You make plenty of money off of us, already!”

Judge Ashbury pounded on the podium once again. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you do not control yourselves, we will put an end to this meeting.”

The man who’d been speaking before stood on his chair. “Judge, there’s no possible way to get a national park up and running by the end of August, and so that won’t solve our problems at all. It will take years to get a national park set up, visitors to come here, and for our products to be needed. In the meantime, we will have to find a way to get our goods to market, as well as get product delivered here.”

“I sympathize and understand.” Judge Ashbury folded his hands on the podium. “I have no desire to be without train service in Kalispell. I’m on your side when it comes to wanting regular service to continue. However, I’ve never known a riot or free-for-all to result in any positive conclusion, so I’m asking everyone to take their turn speaking and do so only when addressed to come forward.”

Carter glanced around and locked eyes with Ellie. He grinned up at her.

Her cheeks flushed, which was a good sign. But then she quickly looked away.

The Judge finally got everyone who wanted to speak to line up on the side. Order once again resumed as he motioned the next man forward.

“Name’s Grant Wallace. I’ve been working with railroads all my adult life. This job’s all I know. I’ve lived in Kalispell since the Great Northern came here. I’ve spent years workin’ up to assistant foreman in the shops supply department. My brother is a section hand. We don’t wanna have to move from Kalispell to Stumptown and even if we did, I wouldn’t be able to get the same job I have now because someone else already has it. I’d have to settle fer a job with less pay and pay fer my move to boot. The railroad ain’t givin’ any thought at all to us loyal workers.”

Mr. Hill stared down at the man, red streaking his face. The room was silent as everyone waited for his response.

Grant shook his head. “Doesn’t the railroad have any responsibility for its people?”

“I’m not without feelings for the workers.” Hill cleared his throat. “However, the railroad can hardly afford to pay to move everyone north. There are plenty of men who will come west and take up jobs with the railroad, so if you don’t wish to move, no one is forcing you.”

Grant’s face darkened. “But I need my job. Seems to me that you and your pa haven’t even considered the workers, much less what losing the railroad is going to do to the good folks in this town. You haven’t thought about the people who’ll be hurt by this. You only think about the money you’ll save and make.”

“And the dangers.” Hill looked over those gathered. “Let’s not forget the dangers. We have thought of our workers and the people of this great town. We can’t have a railroad line that kills them off because of the dangerous route. This decision wasn’t made lightly. After all, it’s going to cost us a great deal of money to move an already established railroad.”

Grant shook his head. “Just seems to me if you really cared about more than the money, you’d be findin’ a way to keep Kalispell as the division line.” He shoved his hands in his pockets and walked back toward the doors.

A man close to Dad stormed to his feet. “Just last March, the Supreme Court ruled against the Northern Securities Company your pa co-owned with J.P. Morgan and Northern Pacific’s E. H. Harriman. They were named guilty of monopolizing railroads in the Northwest. No doubt this caused problems for all of you. I’m inclined to think that you and your pa have given little thought to the trouble you’re causing to the good people of Kalispell. I mean, why would you? In light of the magnitude of the court’s ruling, you’re just trying to make up for all the money you lost by breakin’ the law.”

The man stared down Hill and the crowd came to its feet. Words blasted from every corner of the opera house.

Someone threw a rock at the stage, and it narrowly missed Miss Briggs. Carter came out of his seat ready to rush the stage and protect her, but pandemonium broke loose. He and his father were pushed and shoved as the crowd went wild. Two men tackled the man who’d thrown the rock.

Carter’s gaze stayed locked on Ellie. Her face was pale, her fingers locked in her lap so tight her knuckles were white. Marvella wrapped an arm around Ellie’s shoulders, glaring at the man being taken from the room. Carter eased back into his seat and blew out a breath.

What was his town coming to that they thought it respectable to show their frustration by throwing rocks at innocent women?

A couple deputies rushed the stage, bully sticks drawn, prepared for more trouble. Judge Ashbury took front and center. Yanking a whistle off one of the men’s necks, he blew loud and long as he pounded on the podium.

“Everyone. Sit. Down. Now!” His glare penetrated the room like a warm knife through butter. “Unless you want to sit in jail for a night and then come see me in the courthouse in the morning and pay a hefty fine, I suggest you all act like the civilized citizens of Kalispell I hope you are. Otherwise, you can leave.”

The room hushed to complete silence. Then the Judge nodded at several men who stood sentry throughout the large room.

“I will have these men arrest anyone—and I do mean anyone—who gets out of line from now on. Understood?”

Murmurs floated around the room.

“Good.” He adjusted his vest and took a deep breath. “Now we are going to have a civilized conversation about the railroad and the national park and how that can benefit our town and keep us here in our homes.”

The Judge motioned George Grinnell to come forward. The conservationist immediately went into what seemed a well-rehearsed speech about national parks in general. But no one could miss the nervous shake in his voice or the way he refused to look at the crowd for any length of time. Clearly the night’s proceedings were taking their toll on everyone. Still, Carter respected that the gentleman persevered. Focusing especially on Yellowstone National Park and Yosemite, Grinnell shared information about their creation and the benefit they’d been to the surrounding towns.

From everything he said, it sounded good for the area. But the area for the park was a good distance away from Kalispell. How would that be helpful to them?

He wasn’t opposed to a national park being created. It was important to preserve magnificent places of God’s creation and make them available to the public. But after another fifteen minutes of discussion and questions, no one seemed to care much. The weight of losing the main line of the railroad had sunk in.

And it was devastating.

Judge Ashbury ended the meeting. Nothing positive had been accomplished for the welfare of Kalispell, but at least everyone knew where they stood.

“Well, that was some evening.” Dad let out a sigh and glanced around the opera house. He looked back at Carter, his expression tight. “Let’s get together sometime this week. We can look at options for shipping up north.” Dad stood as the crowd dispersed.

“Sounds good.” Carter’s gaze turned to the stage. Ellie and her father were in discussion with the Judge and Marvella. Ellie’s cheeks were pinker, but her lips were tight and pinched. “Hey, Dad. Come with me for a minute. I want to introduce you to Mr. Briggs and his daughter.”

They made their way through the sea of people and waited. Marvella spotted them and held out her arm to welcome them into the circle.

“Carter and Jacob Brunswick. I hoped we might meet up tonight. I understand you’ve met our house guests.” Marvella patted Carter’s arm.

“Yes, at least I have.” Carter smiled at Ellie. “We encountered each other at the train station.”

“That’s what Miss Briggs told me.” Marvella lifted her lips just a touch. That twinkle in her eye said more than she let on. “I hope you are as impressed with them as we are.”

“Of course.” Carter kept his features neutral. “I wanted Dad to meet them. He was eager to meet Mr. Hill as well.”

Hill had been speaking to the mayor but turned at the sound of his name.

Dad offered his hand to Mr. Hill. “We met some years back to negotiate wheat shipments. Guess we’re going to have to remake our agreement.”

“Ah yes, Mr. Brunswick.” Mr. Hill took the proffered hand and shook it.

Dad turned to Carter. “This is my son, Carter. He also has a contract with the Great Northern for Brunswick Flour—he owns the mill. Guess we’ll both have to figure out a new way to transport our commodities.”

“Ah, I see.”

At least Hill had the decency to look a little uncomfortable.

Mr. Grinnell held out his hand. “Mr. Brunswick, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Mr. Briggs did the same. “Pleasure.” They shook hands and then Dad turned to Ellie. “And it is a delight to meet you. Carter, you didn’t tell me just how beautiful this young lady was.”

Ellie’s cheeks flushed and he had to suppress a grin. He raised an eyebrow at his dad. “I suppose I was just keeping that to myself for fear of the word getting around.” He winked at Ellie. The pale pink bloomed to a darker red, and Carter paused. She’d had a rough night. It was probably not right to tease her so much.

“The Briggses and Mr. Grinnell are getting ready to trek out into the mountains.” Marvella’s eyes brightened. She rapped Carter’s forearm with her folded fan. “However, I just had a marvelous idea. When they return in three weeks, I would like to host you all at dinner. Would you and Mrs. Brunswick be able to join us?”

Dad replied before Carter could. “Of course. We’d enjoy that very much.”

Ellie leaned over and whispered to her dad. Carter watched their interaction from his periphery. Mr. Briggs waved a hand at Ellie and turned away from his daughter. Ellie’s shoulders curled, her head dropping slightly. It wasn’t his place to interfere in family affairs, but the lack of care Mr. Briggs was showing Ellie after her scare tonight set Carter’s teeth on edge. He was about to ask her if she needed something, but Marvella interrupted him.

“And what about you, Carter dear? Would you enjoy an evening with the captivating Miss Briggs as your dining companion?”

Carter snapped to attention. With any luck, his observation of the pretty Miss Briggs had gone unnoticed. But no. The gleam in Marvella’s eyes told him it had not. He swallowed, resisting the urge to tug his collar. “I’d be happy to be there. Miss Briggs is always a pleasure to talk to.”

Marvella smiled, looking like a cat with fresh cream. Heaven only knew what was happening in her mind. “That is the correct answer, Mr. Brunswick. Now”—she turned to her husband, who had just joined the group—“what are you going to do about that miscreant who almost injured Miss Briggs?”

The Judge buttoned his coat, his eyes trained on Ellie. “You can be sure that they will be dealt with, Miss Briggs. I hope it doesn’t color your opinion of Kalispell. Folks are having a difficult time adjusting, but that’s no excuse for violence.”

“I appreciate your kindness, Judge.” Ellie gave the older gentleman the first genuine smile Carter had seen all evening.

Marvella slipped her arm through her husband’s and gave the group a firm nod. “The Judge is right. Our town is in a difficult spot. But we will find a way through, with the Lord’s help.” She glanced at Carter and Ellie, a smile blooming on her face. “And maybe along the way see a little happiness come to fruition.”

“Now, Marvella, you let these young people be. They don’t need to be hustled down the aisle.” The Judge patted his wife’s hand. Marvella shook his hand away, giving her husband a look.

Carter chuckled. Marvella and the Judge were a pair, and for the first time since the evening began, he felt some of the stress leave his shoulders. The Ashburys had a way of doing that. “Don’t you worry, Judge. I’ve no mind to get into any schemes. If the Lord has a wife for me, He’ll lead me to her.”

An eyebrow arched high on Marvella’s brow, and every ounce of stress immediately returned to Carter’s shoulders. He’d done it now. Marvella Ashbury would not rest until she’d matched him with Ellie. Him and his big mouth.

“How interesting that you mention marriage.” Her gaze flicked to Ellie and Carter’s followed. The poor woman looked like a startled deer. “You’re right, however, Mr. Brunswick. I’m sure the Lord will provide just fine. Like the Bible says, it’s not good for man to be alone.”

“Grant, it just ain’t right that the Hills don’t care about their workers! I think we might hafta do something drastic. Threaten Mr. Hill or his son. Maybe even shoot one of them.”

“You always want to jump from doing nothin’ to going way past reasonable, Alvin. What’s wrong with you?” Grant didn’t really care about the answer. This was his brother.

“I’m a man of action, Grant. You know I’m not one to sit around doin’ nothin’ at all.”

“But shootin’ someone? That’s downright drastic, don’t you think?”

“Sometimes drastic measures are called for. Sometimes when you got a bad thing to deal with, you have to throw out something even worse to get a fella’s attention.”

Grant kept walking. Sometimes there was just no reasoning with Alvin. Grant wanted the Hills to change their mind as much as anyone, but he didn’t want violence and murder. After all, what good would it do if they changed the Hills’s minds but ended up in a hangman’s noose?

“You know, we could get some dynamite and blow a whole stretch of that new track. We always have a bunch of it on hand.”

Great. Alvin was getting excited.

“If we blew out the new track it would buy us time.”

Grant snorted. “Time for what? You heard Hill. They’ve made up their mind. The route from Columbia Falls is too dangerous and causes too many problems. They’ve already put money into the solution and if you blow it up, they’ll just rebuild it. You might buy us more time, but time for what? It ain’t gonna change anything.”

Alvin wasn’t listening. “I’ll talk to some friends of mine. We’re all thinkin’ that something needs to be done. They ain’t squeamish like you.”

Grant shrugged. “Do what you want to, but I’m not promisin’ to be part of it.”

Alvin chuckled. “You’ll come along with me on it once you think about it. Doin’ nothing for sure won’t keep your job. Trust me.”

Trusting Alvin was akin to trusting a stick of dynamite. Once their fuse was lit, both were deadly ...

And could go off without warning.