Mr. Adams shook his head. “He’s lost more than four dozen animals. They don’t have any idea how or why yet, just found them dead on his ranch.”
“Horace, dear.” Mrs. Adams tilted her head toward the youngest daughter. “Perhaps we should have this discussion later.”
“You are right, my dear.” He straightened and took a sip from his glass.
Eliza understood Mrs. Adams’s reaction, but she needed to know more. “When did this happen?”
“This morning.” He cleared his throat. “Mr. Schmitt, Eliza tells us that you are the head of the English department at your university. That is an exceptional achievement for a man so young.”
“Thank you, sir.”
The two men discussed higher education as Eliza pondered what she could do to help Mr. Meyer. Losing that many animals was devastating, no matter how large your herd was. The man had been so kind to her, she wanted to do something. But what?
A loud pounding on the front door startled her out of her thoughts.
“I’ll get that.” Mrs. Adams stood and walked toward the door.
As soon as Eliza heard her name, she pushed from the table to find out what was happening.
Charlie—one of Earl’s right-hand men—stood on the threshold with his hat in his hands. “Miss Mills, I’m sorry to disturb your dinner, but Mr. Douglass said that you made the most recent inventory of all the tools.”
“I did.” She turned halfway toward the stairs. “Do you need it?”
“Yes, miss. It appears someone came in and stole a bunch. Mr. Douglass said it would be easier to go through the inventory now so we know what’s missing.”
SATURDAY, JULY8, 1916•JENSEN
Dear Dad,
I pray you are doing well and enjoying some time to yourself. I hope you’ve received my other letters with news of Denver, the Rocky Mountains, and my arrival here in Utah.
I won’t rehash all that, but I need to ask for your prayers. By the time you get this, I’ll soon be home again, but I know that God hears all our prayers and isn’t constrained by time.
Several difficult circumstances have happened out here, and they have prevented me from telling Eliza about her grandfather. My hope is to be able to have some quiet time with her tomorrow after church and give her the note from her grandmother.
Beyond that, I told you how I’ve been feeling the need the past few months to let Eliza go. On the train out here, I thought I’d done a pretty good job of preparing my heart to tell her good-bye.
Not that I don’t want to be her friend anymore. But it’s more symbolic than that. The fact that I love her so deeply makes it difficult to see her and act the way we’ve always acted.
When she was gone for a few weeks, I thought it was good for me. I thought that I was building a healthy wall around my heart. But as soon as I saw her again, it all flew out the window.
I’ve even convinced myself that enjoying this time together isn’t wrong. That it’s my last chance. So I’ll say good-bye when I leave.
I’m struggling, Dad. In a much larger way than I ever imagined. The more time I spend with her, the more I long to be with her.
Since you are the only one who knows about my feelings for her, I covet your prayers to stay strong. To be willing and able to say good-bye when I have to. To allow her to be free.
I would never want to stand in the way of her dreams. Though her grandfather has passed, I still feel beholden to the promise I made him all those years ago. I am thankfulthat when I leave, she will still have several weeks here. It will make it easier to say the true good-bye.
I pray you are doing well. I wish you could see the quarry—it truly is a thing of magnificence. A reminder of the awesome power of God.
I’ll see you soon.
Love,
Devin
He set his pen down and reread the letter as it dried. Just getting the feelings out on paper and asking Dad to pray was healing. But he still had to make it through these next few days.
