Alvin chuckled. “Guess young Johnny’s got some grit after all. They must’ve pelted the horses good.”
“Other people might be hurt, Alvin.” Grant nodded toward the crowd gathered on the other side of the street still staring at the spot where the carriage disappeared.
“Just a bunch of busybodies over there, brother. Everyone’s fine. ’Sides, I can guarantee you there are plenty of men you’d consider to be upstandin’ gents as mad as us about this whole railroad business.” Alvin pulled the brim of his hat low over his eyes. “You’ll see. The folks of Kalispell won’t take this layin’ down. If you don’t fight with us, you’re against us.” Without another word, he crossed the street and disappeared behind a building.
Grant sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. His gut churned.
This wasn’t gonna end good.
FRIDAY, JUNE3, 1904
After nine days on the trail, Eleanor’s exposed skin had browned. She wore a wide-brimmed straw hat to shade her face but figured it too had probably grown darker. It wasn’t really all that important. It wasn’t like she had anyone to impress after the trip. If she was tanned, so be it.
The ride, though arduous, had been glorious. Her horse, Ulysses, was as good a horse as she’d ever ridden on a camping trek. The landscape was truly magnificent as they climbed narrow trails of loose shale and rock. They neverwanted for fresh, cold water, as tiny waterfalls seemed to appear at every turn as they moved higher into the mountains.
At night when they camped, Eleanor found herself listening for the various animals that Mr. Grinnell and Mr. Stanton pointed out. Coyotes yipped in a relentless fashion as if desperate to tell their story. Occasionally a wolf let out a lonely howl and from time to time they had heard a mountain lion’s scream, leading Mr. Stanton to share tales of encounters he’d had the year before when one of the beasts had actually stalked him.
On the fourth day they camped by a wide stream. Several men came down to fish for trout, and more than one of them widened their eyes to find her already there with a string of trout she’d caught.
One of the men whistled. “Never seen a woman outfish us afore.”
She shrugged. “Hope you’re hungry.” Her smile seemed to come from deep down inside her.
Yes, this land had a calming effect on her. And the more she reflected on the note from Marvella and the Scripture the older woman enclosed, the more Eleanor’s inner restlessness abated.
Mr. Stanton and his men fried up her fish for supper that night and compliments abounded. Fishing might not be the most ladylike hobby, but she did love it.
She got to be good at catching sight of black bears too. They seemed curious about the visitors, but not aggressive. Of course, Mr. Grinnell told them the black bears were more inclined to avoid people, whereas the grizzlies didn’t fear anyone or anything. They were to be avoided at all costs. She trembled at the thought of an encounter witha grizzly. Mr. Stanton had told a story just a few nights back about a grizzly mother who attacked an entire camp of people because her two cubs had wandered into that area. He told them that if something like that happened, they were to get to their horses and vacate the camp as quickly as possible. Stanton and his men had firearms, but none of them wanted to kill a bear unless it was the only way to survive.
No wonder her father and Mr. Grinnell wanted to see this place become a national park. The longer they were there, the more she fell in love. She could only imagine what might happen to the place if they failed to see it protected. No doubt people would come in and kill the bears or push them farther west and north as they had back east. They would build houses and industries and tear down the trees and even the mountains themselves to put in roads and other marks of ownership.
But then she remembered hearing Hill speak of his chalets and depots. What was the difference between what he wanted to do to the land and what others might do if itdidn’tbecome a national park?
Still, she couldn’t fault the idea of living in such a place. She didn’t know that she would want to live right in the mountains as they were just now, but perhaps Kalispell might be a pleasant town to settle in. In fact, when her father mentioned a couple of times that he really had a heart for this area, she began to think she could be happy here. She certainly didn’t want to return to a big city. Neither she nor Father were happy living that way.
And the society in Kalispell was much friendlier than out east. The West lacked the upper-crust pretension her groupof acquaintances displayed in New York. Though there were struggles and futures were uncertain, the townspeople in Kalispell seemed to genuinely care for the well-being of their neighbors.
And with people like the Ashburys and Mr. Brunswick—well ... theolderMr. Brunswick. Not Carter—
Eleanor frowned.Carter?When had he become Carter in her mind? His familiarity was rubbing off on her. That simply wouldn’t do.
And why in the name of all that was good and decent did she think of him?
Of course, he had helped her out of the shrubs. They’d managed a halfway civilized conversation. Didn’t end all that well ... but...
Heat filled her face just thinking about it.
Perhaps she might concede to liking him after all. But just a little bit. And only to herself. Marvella couldneverfind out. Her comments the night of the town hall meeting and the grin on Carter Brunswick’s face caused her chest to tighten even now. She could only hope no one had noticed!
Still,Mr.Brunswick was handsome enough. She liked the way his sandy brown hair fell over his right eye sometimes. She liked it too that he seemed unpretentious, not at all needing to impress her. He was almost casual in his appearance and manner. Many times when she and Father had been in mixed company, young men would go out of their way to impress her. Not so, Carter Brunswick. If anything, he was the total opposite.
A smile crept to her lips. She liked that about him. He seemed so genuine. Somehow she knew if she spoke with his most intimate friends and family members she wouldlearn that this was exactly who he was and how he functioned.
“Well, Ellie girl, I hope you’re feeling less taxed than I.” Her father brought his stool to sit near her at the fire.
She studied him in the fire’s glow. “Are you in pain, Father?”
“A little. My back is not in approval of all this riding. I should have known better.”
