Carter nodded. “Bill takes good care of his sisters and mother. He’s a hard worker and doesn’t complain, no matter what he’s asked to do. I’ve gotten the better end of the bargain.” Yes, this plan was coming together. Why had he been so worried? “I came out here to pray and it feels like God has answered before I’ve asked. Guess we’ve got work to do.”
“I’vegot some sleep to catch up on.” His dad rose and gave a stretch. “Come on, son. You need your rest too.”
“I’ll be right behind you.”
“Don’t stay out here too long. ... I know you have a penchant to overthink things. Leave it in God’s capable hands.” The door creaked again as his dad entered the house.
Carter turned and gave the night sky one last look. A verse from Psalm 121 came to mind. “My help comes fromthe Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth,” he whispered, peace washing warmth over him. It reminded him of the day his pastor and elders had prayed for him when the mill opened.
Thank You, Lord.
The Lord would help them get through this.
10
THURSDAY, JUNE2, 1904
Grant stepped out into the scorching heat of a record-hot June day. There was no relief inside or out. Sweat dripped down his temple, adding to the moisture already gathered around his collar. A good shock of cold water would help clear his mind and cool him off.
He followed the worn path to the water pump at the side of the building, trying to sort his thoughts. He needed to decide about moving to Whitefish soon. But like he’d told Mr. Hill, a move for him and Alvin took money they didn’t have. Which was why he hadn’t cleared out yet. If he could stretch his time at his current position until the last minute, every cent of that pay would help them get north or keep him and Alvin going until they figured out what they were gonna do.
Alvin.
Even thinking his brother’s name made his shoulders tighten. He was getting crazier with his ideas to stop the railroad leaving Kalispell. Alvin’s frustration and anger wereunderstandable. Grant felt that way too. But the mayhem his little brother was scheming ...
It was crazy.
Lately Alvin’s rage had turned against the national park. After hearing about all the fancy plans for Whitefish and the opening of the park, Alvin decided Mr. Hill and those conservationist fellas—Mr. Grinnell and ... was his name Braggs? Briggs?—were on his list for troublemakin’. Kept sayin’ the two went hand in hand. That the people supportin’ the national park must be in cahoots with the railroad.
Grant grasped the handle of the water pump and worked it a few times until a stream of water spilled from the spout. He bent over and stuck his head under. Water poured down his neck and soaked his shirt. After a minute he stood and slicked his hair back off his forehead. He pumped a couple more times and cupped his hands, drinking in the cool water. It felt good racing down his throat. Settled him down.
“Is that his carriage over there?”
Grant stilled. Was someone talking to him? He glanced around. There was no one he could see. He swiped his forehead and turned to head back to the depot when another voice stopped him in his tracks.
“That’s it. But keep your voice down, dummy. Want the whole town to hear ya?”
Grant stifled a groan.
Alvin.
Grant backtracked a few steps and peeked around the corner of the back wall of the depot. Alvin and a young man Grant didn’t recognize were crouched low, several largerocks in front of them. Grant’s jaw slackened. They couldn’t be this dumb, could they?
“Now, Tom and Horace are waitin’ for us to make the first toss. Once we do, the hor—Hey!”
Grant yanked his brother to his feet and dragged him away from his hiding spot. Alvin struggled against his brother’s grip, but Grant held sure. Finally, when they were back by the water pump, he let Alvin go. The shorter man stumbled backward, landing in the wet grass with a thud.
“Grant! What’d you go and do that for? We were just about to send a strong message to that Hill fella!” Alvin glared up at him.
Grant rubbed his face. “Are you an idiot? You’re in broad daylight! If the marshal catches you, it’s jail for sure.”
Alvin pushed himself into a sitting position and brushed the grass off his sleeves. He picked up his hat and plunked it back on his head. “So what? We aim to get our point across. If you don’t like it, fine. But you leave me to my own business.” He stood and poked a finger in Grant’s face. “You’re goin’ soft.”
“No.” Grant slapped Alvin’s hand away. “I’m goin’smart.Throwin’ rocks like brats ain’t gonna change anything. It’s—”
A scream and a horse’s loud whinny split the air. The two brothers exchanged glances and ran back to where the kid had been sitting. He was nowhere in sight. Neither were the big rocks they’d had piled.
Grant glanced down the main street, his eyes growing wide. Mr. Hill’s carriage was rolling at a fast clip down the street. Two men bounced back and forth on the bench seat. A derby hat flew off one of their heads and tumbled in thedirt. They rounded a corner on two wheels and disappeared from view.
