But in the back of his mind, doubts niggled at him. Was he old enough? Was he wise enough? Would the workers respect him? What if he had issues? Financially. Or with equipment or distribution?
They reached the church steps and Dad stopped at the bottom and turned. “Carter, I know you. I can see the worry crisscrossing your face.” He placed his hand on Carter’sshoulder again. “You’ve taken on a massive job, but God will see you through. Just like you said, God has provided and opened the door. Keep Him first, and He will guide you.”
“Yes, sir.” He inhaled deep. “That’s why I wanted to come here. It’s important to give my work over to the Lord.”
“Then, let’s go.” Dad headed up the steps and Carter followed.
Twenty-one. He couldn’t believe it. He was the owner of the flour mill at twenty-one! When he was younger, he’d had lots of dreams. Most of them centered around their wheat farm and the mill. But when several of his school chums courted and got married, envy began to seep into his heart and mind.
Hisbiggestdream had been to get married, have a family, and carry on the legacy his parents and grandparents gave him. But finding the right gal proved harder than it was to dream it.
He’d done his best to set that part of his dreams aside, but inside, his heart yearned for it no matter how much he tried to quell it.
Taking two stairs at a time, he followed Dad. All in good time. God had given him this part of his dream, He would supply the rest. If it was His will.
Man, he hoped it was. Pastor Watkins opened the double doors as they reached the top step. “Welcome. So good to see the Brunswick men today.” He clapped his hands together. “And what a day it is. Am I looking at the new owner of the flour mill?” His eyebrows wiggled.
“That you are.” Dad patted Carter on the back.
“Wonderful!” He held out an arm toward the sanctuary.“I asked the elders and deacons to pray with us—just as you asked, Carter.”
“Thank you, Pastor.” As they walked into the space, the smell of lemon oil filled his senses. Someone must have polished the pews recently.
“Let’s head to the front. If you’ll kneel, Carter, the rest of us would like to surround you and lay our hands on your head and shoulders as we approach the throne of Grace.”
Carter nodded and walked forward.
Now that the time was here, everything else fell away. Silence filled the room and he stepped to the altar and knelt.
Surrounded by godly men whom he’d known half of his life, Carter dipped his head and closed his eyes.
Lord, into Your hands I give my life and my business. May Ibring glory to Your name...
One of the elders began to pray, and a rush of warmth filled him as tears streaked down his cheeks.
1
TUESDAY, MAY10, 1904—MONTANA
Every last bit of patience Eleanor Briggs once claimed as her own had disappeared about two hundred miles ago. This train trip used it all.
But why? It wasn’t like this was any different from any of the last hundred journeys with her father. This was her life.
She flipped through the pages ofCenturymagazine, trying to find something that would occupy her mind.
Whenwould they arrive at their destination?
Mile after mile of endless prairie had left her feeling rather empty and—dare she say it?—lonely. Thank goodness they had finally reached the mountainous region with its magnificent scenery, but even the views out the windows couldn’t change the fact that she was bored. And tired.
Of trains.
Of living out of luggage.
Of the same conversations, articles, and lectures on conservation.
Horrid thoughts really, but as long as no one else heardthem, she could be honest. She used to love traveling with her father. His work in assisting his dear friend George Grinnell in seeing to the formation of a new national park in Montana was a worthy cause. Still, there was a restlessness inside her that, at twenty-four years of age, she couldn’t quite explain.
Patience was hard to come by, but she couldn’t allow others to see her inner turmoil. Especially not her father.
