“I’m sorry. I’m usually not this emotional.” She stepped back, threading the soggy handkerchief through her fingers. “Please disregard what I just said.”
As if she could forget it! Marvella shook her head. The Lord had sent her a hurting young woman who needed His love and truth. “Thinking God hates you isn’t something that is easily forgettable, Miss Eleanor. But”—shetapped her foot—“I can see right now you don’t want to discuss it.”
Relief visibly swept over Eleanor. “Thank you.”
Marvella arched both of her eyebrows. “However, don’t you think you’ve gotten out of another discussion about this. At some point, you are going to have to patch things up with God, my dear. And we will most assuredly be havingthatconversation soon.” Marvella gave Eleanor a firm hug. “And I’ll be looking forward to it. Now, ready yourself for dinner. I’ll see you in an hour or so.”
Marvella swept from the room and shut the door with a firm click. Eleanor’s confession still ringing in her head, she made her way to her room and sat down in an overstuffed chair. For a moment, she clasped her hands together and prayed for the Briggs family. Then she plucked the Bible off the side table, searching for verses about God’s love.
The next time Eleanor Briggs said God hated her, Marvella would be ready to show her just how wrong she was.
THURSDAY, MAY19, 1904
Even after using cool washcloths over her eyes for more than an hour this morning, Eleanor still had puffy eyes. But Father insisted she attend another discussion in the library about the national parks. Not that she’d said one word last time.
It had been nice to get everything off her chest last night with Marvella. The woman was an incredible sounding board. And while she had strong opinions about Eleanor’s need to “patch things up with God,” she’d been relativelyquiet and even offered her shoulder when the tears were the worst. In fact, she hadn’t given a lick of advice then, which shocked Eleanor. But told her they would talk some more later.
Of that, Eleanor had no doubt. Once the woman set her mind to fixing something, she usually did it.
With a deep sigh, she entered the library.
Mr. Hill was talking. He seemed particularly excited about his ideas for accommodations.
“I told George that I would like to see all the park buildings done in chalet fashion, including the depot. I believe it will accentuate the setting in a most beneficial way and remind visitors of the Swiss Alps.”
“That does sound fitting.” Mrs. Ashbury came to Eleanor’s side, cuddling her little dog. “Don’t you think, Eleanor?”
Since she’d been so deftly invited into the conversation, she offered her opinion. “I believe we should blend into the scenery as best we can, with as few buildings or alterations to nature as possible.”
“Of course, my dear. We are all in agreement there.” Her father looked from her to Mr. Hill. “My daughter is devoted to securing as many national parks as we can in our lifetime.”
Why would Father say that? She’d never said or implied that was her goal. Was he trying to impress the railroad man or Grinnell? She cleared her throat. “I would like to see more land made public and left untouched, but that would includenotbuilding hotels and concessions to further damage the area.”
“Wealthy folks aren’t going to always be willing to spendtheir time traveling and living in tents.” Mr. Hill’s expression showed a kind of bored amusement. “At least not for long. It can be a great novelty and attraction for many, and those types of guided tours will be offered. We would hire men familiar with the area to take guests into the wilderness, away from the comforts of hotels and dining rooms. My wife and I enjoyed a trip like that in Yellowstone. We lived in a tent for a week and ate around campfires. It was an experience, to say the least.”
The men chuckled, then Grinnell stood and paced. “This is exactly what we need—for Americans toexperienceour national parks. There are a great many dangers to be sure, but that is why we need to carefully plan the routes and pathways. We can post rangers to watch over the camping areas, where the guests can go to enjoy getting away from the routines of life. And we can have luxury lodges for those who would rather enjoy the beauty in comfort.”
“I have already designed two depots, both with defined Alpine features.” Mr. Hill’s excitement grew as he talked. “I believe visitors will be completely enthralled. We will have lodges as well as cabins to accommodate everyone. We will offer indoor plumbing and electricity as well.”
“More development and destruction on the land.” Eleanor bit her lip while the Judge made some comment that thankfully left her outburst unheard.
Then the room went silent.
Whatever Judge Ashbury said had the men’s attention.
He paced in front of Mr. Hill. “The problem of the railroad is uppermost on the minds of folks here in Kalispell.” He sighed. “I appreciate that you’ve taken time to comeand speak to them personally, but I fear you haven’t come to hear them out.”
Mr. Hill shook his head. “It can’t be helped. There are too many problems with the current line. The grades can’t be reduced, and the dangerous twists and turns have caused derailments. Loss of product and life is unacceptable, and my father is adamant that the problem be resolved.”
The Judge’s chin lifted. He did not look pleased. “Well, I must give my attention to other matters, gentlemen.” He left the room, but the men continued to talk.
Marvella stood. “I need to tend my roses. Would you like to accompany me, Eleanor?”
As much as she wanted to say yes to Marvella and escape the tension of the room, she couldn’t. “I promised to take notes for Father.”
“All right, dear.” Their hostess left as well.
“I thought perhaps you two could write up pamphlets that we could sell to the tourists who come and want to explore on the hiking trails and walkways. Perhaps create some type of reference to the plants and trees, as well as the wildlife.” Hill had unrolled some sort of plans that all the men hovered over.
